When things are going well
we seldom offer thanks
but when they go to hell
we scramble for those planks
and crawl about on bended knee
proffering a pathetic plea—
it isn’t God or life
that causes our chagrin
existence is a knife
on which we all begin
but if we choose to lie and hedge
we feel the temper of the edge.
At times it’s worth a nick
pursuing noble gain
but don’t become a prick
preoccupied with pain
for you can only go so far
before you leave a lasting scar.
Are You Reading Me?
Bravo! I bow to the master.
ReplyDeleteSo glad to see you're writing again.
Hello Bob,
ReplyDeleteWOW!! Marvellous work done!
Concept, rhyming and depth... all fantabulous :)
Regards,
Dimple
http://poemshub.blogpspot.com
This is amazing and at the same time very saddening to me. Such is life.
ReplyDeleteWell thanks Shirley, Dimps and Noah, I don't deserve such excellent comments.
ReplyDeleteOk. If that's what you believe, I'll stop commenting. No problem.
ReplyDeleteNice thoughts.Indeed thanking is an art that is discretionary.
ReplyDeleteNow Shirley I didn't say I don't deserve any comments, let's not get carried away ;)
ReplyDeleteHi Nithin, so true!
I agree. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention. ;)
ReplyDelete