His Punishment
I woke up to meowing once more today
“Food,” he prompted. But not now,
For the alarm is blaring “Awake, Awake!”
And poor ol’ Hunter gets left out
A fashionable leap off the bed with a pounce.
The machinations of my body caused me to flinch, unaware
Of the day that was coming, though I knew what it brought
“Extra, extra, Tuesday is here, hear and prepare”
My sack for the year, in the cramped spaces, was stocked
And I flew into the cold, frozen stiff as a rock
Far as it was, I enjoyed the sights
Birds jibbering on in persistent melody
The brights lights revealed all new sounds and new sights
In the calm of the storm I kept a slow, a steady heartbeat
As one would underneath the chestnut tree
For myself the waiting is the worst of it, for when I arrive
My transportation does not follow. It carries a time
Of its own, to which I replied
That “No bus should be commandeered in this harsh winter land mine”
Even though it should be on time, and just perfectly fine
Boarding I expect nothing more than a plethora
Of familiar faces, though strangers to me
My mouth never opens; it shouldn’t. Pandora
Has sealed my mind tightly my thoughts for me to see only
And what boring conversation that would be.
Yet I manage my way through the crowds of the morning
My so-called “friends” claiming fame for their jokes
Their jolly old laughs where we need be mourning
In topics like those of great wars and “dumb” folks
Ones I saw in my reading but four days ago
Why must I learn of such topics, like history
When another young (to me) but quite old woman
Beckons in things like musical keys
I’ve become that robot, adulthood, it’s called
But my spirit is plagued by yet five more bullets
At half I find loneliness creeping my way
“Sit in the darkness,” He calls out my name
And my heart begs and pleads not to follow his neighing
“A foolish ass, He is, with foolish old games”
Now is not the time to play
Continuing on, the day wearies itself out
And I blindly follow in bewildered confusion
Knowing full well that there’s boredom, no doubt
At home, where I work and rest, no play, it’s an illusion
It makes me a dull boy, an infant intrusion
Settling when the moon rises, the owl “hoo, hoo. hoo”
No more tears or pain, not one letter to cruise through
A guide through “Life,” whatever’s that wall
Climbing it impossible, it’s much too tall
I woke up to meowing once more today
“Food,” he prompted. But not now,
For the alarm is blaring “Awake, Awake!”
And poor ol’ Hunter gets left out
A fashionable leap off the bed with a pounce.
And so it begins, once more that “Kind”day of life
The start to my end, and the end to my mind
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