Untitled Poem 10-09-2015
10-09-2015
Is it too late? Has the dice already
been cast against my favor? Was
there any ever chance to begin with? Was
it all supposed to fall apart like some,
tragic, clichéd, harlequin twist?
If this is all that’s meant for this bit
player and this made for television
disaster, then let the director recast.
in the grand scheme of mediocrity
there is no real failure. We are all
just cast to our cosmic pigeon holes,
meant to linger, stagnate. Now, in
my folly, failure, and foil, I know that
tearing, to be thrown aside. Not good,
never good, unable to burst forth from
this disposition like the fabled caterpillar
into the glorious monarch. No, not for
all of us. Sometimes, more often than
not, our wings, like failures on the ground,
appear already torn and useless; never
able to fly. Just another failure.