Good Father, Husband, Employee, etc., etc.

Broken machine, bent by stress, I am out of service.
Leave me alone. I'll repair to the water's edge.
Watching the little white clouds, and the wind
In the trees and the fields, I will get back to what
I was last time you saw me, and I will arise,
Return to the business of being of use, of performing
The tasks that, machine that I am, I'm expected to
Do, and I'll jettison hopes. They haven't been
Helpful. I'll be back in service. Okay?



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 39 times
Written on 2010-08-27 at 02:50

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