Gravitas

It seems I'm lacking gravitas. That's strange. I'm not
A cheery guy, but my train's long since left the station
At which other graybeards ponder issues of significance.
I don't believe in right or wrong, or good or bad, or,
For that matter, fact kept clear of fantasy. I sneer
At all the decent men and women who presume
To know what's best for those they kill and cheat.
I have no use for gods or bishops, none for flags
Or fatherlands. I cheer, instead, the ones in black
Who shatter peace and windowpanes, the punks
With skateboards and guitars, and one small girl
Who comes to keep me company two times a week.
The world still is new to her. She struggles to learn
How it works, and, as she does, her solemn face
Reflects her gravitas.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 34 times
Written on 2019-01-22 at 13:03

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