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in a story
all these people
who'd rather be at home
darning their socks sweeping their floors
ccoking up something delicious
those in a story
are a little like the poor
the hapless, the displaced
a part of the prison population
one feels for them
and one avows
let's you and I not go there
such terrible things transpire
in a story
all these people
who'd rather be
where they were before
who'd rather be we're the going
every form of comfort eludes them
what can you say to them?
some would rather be dead
than find themselves
in a certain kind of story
but we wouldn't leave them there
we couldn't leave them be
some days it's as if they knew we were watching
but that never lasts for long
they suffer
and who isn't happy not to?
each privation is instructive
every stray arrow is aimed for the heart
in a story
all these people
who'd rather be free
to go their own way
you must warn all your friends and relations
never to be in such a place
where in the world?
eyes down to reveal it
to unravel
the ones who tap at the gate of eternity
just because they're qualified
they'd rather just cosy up by the fire
in the glow of a yarn, or better still, song
they'd rather be reading a story
So true! So true! The terrible things dreamed up for those in a story!
ReplyDeleteLOL. Fire the arrow and drop the brick from the roof so true. The nights spent thinking up the ills. Nice one.
ReplyDelete