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No care is taken for it,
Though I should not say none is there.
Where I am, there is little hope, I mean.
For years already I have presumed
When I get into my car it will fail
Or when I get into bed it will fall,
Slats and all,
But most of this never happens.
No more do all my chairs
Collapse beneath me when I sit.
If I wait long enough, kill time till all but decay is past,
Such descent will obviously come to pass.
And though all the worry was always a waste,
It will at last be clear to anyone's recall
That I guessed right about the failure and the fall,
But there'll be no one to congratulate.
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You might have preferred "Care, Hope, And Wisdom", but things didn't work out that way. Nonetheless, this is the best short poem I've written in years, though that is not a disinterested opinion.
ReplyDeleteJust gave you an award over at my blog...
ReplyDeleteI do like that poem you posted.
ReplyDeleteWell, that's good. I like to get my noggin polished if no one is in the mood to polish my knob instead! But I can see that you have too many recipients to award everyone a night in bed with a Hollywood comic. I'll live, I guess, even if not for long...
ReplyDeleteI like it.
ReplyDeleteThought maybe you would; it is very carefully phrased. But, as usual, it is not perfect!
ReplyDelete