Why Do I Do it?

The coffee is fresh and dark and strong, delicious,
And the sky is pastel pink. The air is gently cool,
No longer stifling, not yet cold. Few cars
Bustle down the street. This place, the world
In which I live, is calm and lovely. I can't
Understand why I forsake it daily, choosing
To be outraged and depressed by headlines
Issuing from distant hells, by those routine
Atrocities which take place far from me.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 41 times
Written on 2020-09-23 at 14:17

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