The Right Err

Stumbling in to a room full of dust,

The air is thick and smells of must.

For years we've tried to reach this place

Searching for clues out here in space.

Astronomers we sought to be

Studying the stars sometimes for free.

Course after course we took to prepare,

Our families supported with constant care.

Yet still all this was not enough. . .

When we arrived – to our amaze –

We found a room much like a grave.

Our hands equip with brushes fine

Began to chase away the grime.

Archeologists we dreamed to be.

And studied all day without a fee.

Now at last, the dust at bay,

Terror arises to claim the day.

We sat around for hours few

Until our minds were made anew. . .

Budding psychologist. . .

We made believe.

Slowly across the stage we weave.

In the room of dust we found

A person old with no renown.

Covered by a coat of rust,

Gazed from eyes both fair and just.

Smile benevolent sought us;

Face tender bought us;

Then words were spoken clear

By one who knew no fear:

“To my world you arrive unbidden

To my room you stumble hidden;

Now to your world I will seek

Knowledge to gain from week to week.

To study and write with all my might

To seek out work to change my plight

To find that one job may change my life.”

"For here in my home of dust and age

Knowledge is limited and lives in a cage.

The perfect job perhaps for me

Is one in which my words are free.

I'll gaze at the stars, search the mind,

Dig in the earth for jewels to find.

Despite the labors that stand in the way

Or money insufficient for knowledge to pay,

I'll write and drive the dust away.”