For Bibek
Of even someone who's joyous as am I.
"The Prince of Good Cheer," I am called
On cloudless days, but, in this gloom,
I scowl and hide away inside. The man
Who smiles and shakes your hand, and tells
You that your problems can be solved,
And that your future's bright, now questions his,
And cannot smile. All I do is watch TV, and curse
The way my life has gone; so strange for me,
I'm sure you'd say. The prince has died,
And, in his place, the world finds a dreary,
Wretched man.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 53 times
Written on 2018-05-21 at 18:05
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The Prince of Good Cheer
A few such days of chronic twilight sap the spiritsOf even someone who's joyous as am I.
"The Prince of Good Cheer," I am called
On cloudless days, but, in this gloom,
I scowl and hide away inside. The man
Who smiles and shakes your hand, and tells
You that your problems can be solved,
And that your future's bright, now questions his,
And cannot smile. All I do is watch TV, and curse
The way my life has gone; so strange for me,
I'm sure you'd say. The prince has died,
And, in his place, the world finds a dreary,
Wretched man.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 53 times
Written on 2018-05-21 at 18:05
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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