Opportunity knocks,
And I turn my back.
Not into playing
Any high-strung games.
Not into risking
My meager employment.
Not into hob-knobbing
With those that want to show-off.
So when opportunity comes
My humble way,
I say no, thank you,
Perhaps another day.
Sunday Scribblings #272
Time,
Energy,
Effort,
Concentration,
Relationships,
Money,
Emotions,
Risk,
Image,
Arguments…
Wasted.
Relationships,
Experiences,
Knowledge,
Entertainment,
Recreation,
Dreams,
Love…
Sacrificed.
About time,
Wouldn’t you say?
Better late than never,
I hope.
And enough is enough.
Sunday Scribblings #268
Crossing into
Dark and silent woods.
Waiting on the call,
Wondering if it matters.
Leaving one place,
To try again in another.
Going in,
No matter what it takes.
What’s next?
(Sunday Scribblings #271)
Smooth, flying, dreams
Sweet, happy, memory.
Closed. Gone. Past.
The images go by,
Then fall over an edge
Never to return.
Living in illusion
Causes more pain
Then it escapes.
Lies, running, away.
What reality do I
Choose? What is
Real? What pain
Is true? Accept?
(Sunday Scribblings
#270, sweet)
Dungeons keep
The unwanted.
Towers keep
The necessary
But still unwanted.
In the village
Lives the free man,
Who pays taxes
To the king,
So the villager
Is wanted
For his work,
And for his money.
But what of the great
Flock of angels
Waiting in the heavens?
Busy as ever,
But unknown,
Unappreciated,
Unwanted.
Being an angel
Is a thankless job.
Everyone pays homage
But nobody bears duty.
Being an angel
Is hard work.
You have to save
Stupid people.
You have to keep
Watch over evil men
Who plague the innocent
With their corruption.
And all kinds of things.
But what reward do
Angels get?
They get to be in
God’s presence.
Given, it is a privilege.
But how far does it go?
Eventually,
Even that gets old.
In the end,
Nobody wants to be
An angel.
(Sunday Scribblings
#269 – flock)
Stumbling along the sidewalk 