aching man's feet
we adults all hold the knife
to variegate a spice to life
to carve ourselves a good career
or disadvantage one with fear
yet not a blade that comes to hand
comes honed to do as bid and planned.
the sharpest wit may go astray
should circumstance dictate the play.
choice we have yet we have not
an option should we plod our lot
but adapt, adopt, react adept
or, conversely, inapt, inept.
there is no reason to the rhyme,
no foot- nor blue-print to a crime.
we hazard through a game of chess
aspiring to avoid the mess.
some may chain themselves to greed
some to postulate a need;
some will wrap themselves in verse
to commandeer their universe
with maudlin gripes and mushy thoughts;
the joy in their bermuda shorts
and wallow plaudits, candyfloss
until the arsenic cuts the gloss
a frailty that unites us all
that some will chew and chew with gall
while others turn it on its head
and turn to gold that once was lead
whether silverspooned and plumb
or scratching itches for a crumb.
not all bad eggs will grant a stink
and no-one is as we might think.
Copyright © ephraim crud | Year Posted 2016