“If you get it done,” they say,
“That’s, of course, very well,
But if you don’t, that’s also fine,”
As their bland shrugs tell.
What other job could someone say
That not finishing is fine?
Try that at your job sometime
And see if the bosses mind.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Not Your Work, But Mine
Home
The land speaks –
Quiet but powerful:
A hand to your throat,
A blow to your heart,
A tear to your cheek –
A soul so strong:
A presence you can’t ignore
Or quite define
But feel more clearly
Than words.
It calls out,
Calls you back.
It sings you to sleep.
It breathes you awake.
It’s a warm embrace,
A cozy fire,
And a surge of emotion
From a tie too deep,
Too strong, to ever
Break completely.
They Cry
In cushioned, padded beds
They cry
Or when hard on the dusty streets
They lie
Naked, covered, in between,
Little difference have I seen,
But I know, a day complete
Is one that’s spent with happy feet.
Hurry Up & Wait
Preparations made,
Probabilities weighed,
Plans set –
One question remaining:
Is it tomorrow yet?
twytte 