Wished away the reality of my life
Torn asunder with banality’s strife
Babies, bosses and most always the wife
My cup runneth over bubbling with rife
I point my own finger at me, my mind
Putting pen to paper I did consign
In fact if it wasn’t for me, my con line
Who at twenty doesn’t think it will be fine
I fell to bottom of a deep deep mine
Said what I had to and it’s time to choose
The next rhyming word, please choose not to lose
© 2011 Michael Yost
divine words, choose not to lose, cool rhyme…
I read your comment in my 55 post today,
sorry that you grow up without a Dad, bless your Mom…
I’ve been blessed in so many other ways it’s cool. Thanks for the visit.
Ah, I grew up with an absentee dad. I did know he though.
This is cute and fun, Michael. I like the ending.
Thanks for visiting us today at “Into the Bardo,” my new blog done in collaboration with friends Rob and Ann. We appreciate your reading and commenting.
Happy Potluck –
I seen your name and had to check it out. Good to see ya!
Appreciate the kind words and the visit!
Your poem and mine are related. 🙂 Beautifully stated and rhyming, too!!
Pretty unique coming out so closely together like they did!
“babies, bosses and most always the wife” LOL!! I love that you mixed that giggle in with a quite serious message. Beautiful rhymes. 🙂
My Poetry Pantry poem: Saturday AM TV
Thanks to you and Jamie for checking out all that rain first before it got to Long Beach the past few weeks! smiles..
Link is down, but I remember the digital tv’s and thought they were cool.
Yeah, when you’re twenty you always think it will be fine. What a bunch of dumb bunnies!
Everything was black and white with no grays ever. Of course now it’s almost all gray making it drab..