With his brim pulled way down, low
Taking time the only way he knows
Looks from house to house and complains
Why others have it made, the lucky and few
Seem to have it all
But the fool is not merry and holds in his heart
Darkness and vile thoughts of those within
Hatred spewing through his lungs and veins
Deep and biding
That inward bile grows but has no where to go
He can't scream and if he did who would hear
So he curses on his way
Those that are more
The sting turns and tightens
Inside it builds and builds
With no release, perceived or real
A victim it ensnares
He learns to hate himself as much
As those he sees inside
Not thinking he would be enough
To rest and come sit down
So onward down the road he skulks
From window, light to light
Feasting just on hate and fear
Morning, noon and night
Never resting or at peace
In the street he only sees dark
And lets it rest upon his heart
To slowly turn it cold and black
Still focused in on those he sees
Without the same and so at ease
Living clean and bright and new
Never learning how to do
Really not allowing change
To take him over and rearrange
The path he is on and continues down
The fool walks merrily, acting the clown
He wanders on an endless road
Until a day he allows what has been told
To take hold
And reshape
The time has arrived
To ignore others who strive
And do his own moving
Progress and going
Each day, each hour, minute and second
The fool continues to stoke the flame
The days and hours, minutes and seconds
Disappear and diminish
Things just remain the same
There is only so much saying
Hoping and praying to get
Through the human condition
For sins of the past and
Things regretted done
Just proclaim your contrition
And move on
Down the road to your very own home
Light bright and clean
With all that you need
To rest and enjoy
The final decision
To stop going on
With self derision
For day will come surely follow by night
The light will end
and will come the Great Fright
That moment to shall pass
And disappear and fade
As he turns to go inside
He hears her say again
You have to lay
In the bed that you made
Make your bed each day
To be of comfort
Joy and discover
Each day what you can uncover
Leave it better than you found it
And if there is a legacy
Let it be that old reliable
It is never too late
In looking through the images I came across a Peanuts bookend and could have posted that, as predictable as that seems, so I went with the "pick a number between one and 50" and picked 47. Counting down the page I discovered this Lucite bookend. Just one. Very 70's feel to me.
