blind success, so temporary

I still manage to put one foot in front of the other,
and generally get to where I need to go,
even though you constantly push me aside,
your eyes on the prize of the day,
as you let nothing get in your way;

I breathe pretty well most of the time,
even with your foot pressing down on my neck;
I still smile when I see something beautiful,
even though your grimace looms over the landscape;

I believe in the innate goodness of people,
even though you manage to make malice seem
like the order of the day, in every way;
While you worry about whether your latte will be freshly brewed,
I wonder what I will do tomorrow about food;

You laugh at those whose frailties show, you snicker,
but what will come to you, in time, will make you sicker
than you seem to me now, all attitude and eyebrow;

I used to be on the top of the pile, like you are now,
and I learned how easy it is to fall, and how fast it can come;
I can see that in your eyes today, that simple slip
when misfortune takes everything, and makes you run for cover;
one day, you will be down here, though you will likely not see,
you will probably not discover that having nothing to lose,
means that you are really, really free;

Of course, in your mindset, you will never have a regret,
you will never appreciate all that fate and pure luck gave you,
even when you hit the bottom, and there is no one left who cares,
no one who will even try to save you, even yourself,
and all your accumulation will amount to nothing,
rotting and corroding on some too-high-to-reach shelf;

Every time I feel especially low, I take a moment, like now,
to feel really sorry for those like you, who would not know
what to do, or where to turn, if you were in my shoes,
and I wind up, oddly, having so much pity for you.


December 15, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.