Saturday, March 3, 2012
Ode to a Downer
My friend Jerry blogs poems about people, real and not. A recent entry made me think of a shrew who spends a great deal of time vainly trying to make others miserable. She continues to fail in her valiant efforts as we all roll our eyes for her misguided feats of defeat.
I feel sorry for her because jealousy consumes her being.
I feel sorry for her, for shallowness defines her humanity.
I feel sorry for her, for she lives as a desperate saboteur.
I feel sorry for her, for she suffers a pernicious soul that exudes black rot.
I feel sorry for her because success—a product derived from education, professionalism, and talent—will never knock on her door.
I feel sorry for her, for she exists in a world of non-existence, one that centers on ordering sheet cakes, making copies, and answering phones.
I feel sorry for her, as she cannot appreciate a child.
I feel sorry for her, for country music gives her the answer to what’s wrong in her world.
I feel sorry for her, for bitterness and acrimony wilt the petals of the frayed broad.
I feel sorry for her, for her delusions and manipulations reveal a desperate loon.
Maybe peace will come someday for her. Maybe she will decide to not be a downer.
Sadly, dignity, acuity, and common sense will not.
It's time to move on, old girl. Just move on.
“Those who love you will behold you across ten thousand worlds of birth and dying.”