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Vice Regent of Now

08 Mar
this is the day your boss has made
bucks from what you should've been paid
hours for green-backs is a terrible trade
grinds fingers to a nub, you begin to fade

dreams once entertained as a child
remember the forest where you ran wild
before you cared how the locks were styled
or if the fingernails were clipped and filed

just imagine what another first day would bring
if again you would shout, holler, and sing
without obsessing of seeming a ding-a-ling
reclaim your short moment, wing the fling 
as your own vice regent, queen, and king



 
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Posted by on March 8, 2022 in Poetry

 

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