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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/844877-Not-That-Serious
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Career · #844877
Character is built as we accept the idiocy of others. But who is the real idiot?!?
Not That Serious
(04/19/2004)


"Point to the bleachers!
Commit! Don't quit!"
I know, I know.
I'd look good in your hat,
but truth be known,
it's way too big.
Your head's too fat.

No,
no thanks.
I'm just passing through.
Keep your Superfund site
and enjoy the view.
You've poisoned the plot.
You've laid Eden bare,
afraid to say you're sorry or
you just don't care.

So, begging your pardon,
stay out of my garden.
It's teeming with life
and it's sacred to me.
The nitrogen cycle is
living, re-living --
it's taking and giving,
reminding me
everything
can be forgiven.

So bowing down low,
I curtsey to you
-- and all --
who are trapped
in identity,
already dead to me,
limited options of
"do it or else".
You short-wicked fuses
are destined to lose.
You always look down,
wearing blinders of blue,
forgetting to laugh or veer off of the path!

Smile, exhale,
loosen your noose.
Come back to the party.
Forget your excuse.
Let go of your wrath,
you vengeful prick!
But don't take that wrong --
it's a term of endearment
(or rather ENDURE-ment,
for you were my torment),
but maybe it's best that I
leave that unspoken.
I cherish a challenge
and love your provoking.

Come back to the party,
so I can play hero.
What else would I do
but save all your victims
from somebody new?
© Copyright 2004 BeHereBook (beherebook at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/844877-Not-That-Serious