For All You Dear Soupers
The poem I'm writing right now's number eight
For me that is special; I must save the date
I've been cranking them out, one on top of another
For all you dear Soupers, all my sisters and brothers
I'm really quite lonely; that's the reason I write
The family I come from was nervous, uptight
My parents and siblings were rather difficult folks
Had trouble relaxing---couldn't tolerate jokes
I understand it's not real; I comprehend the illusion
Yet all you dear Soupers are my daily (blood) transfusion
You comment so kindly on my poems each day
Better than money, your words; they're my actual pay
So as I conclude these lines of inadequate appreciation
Let us meet again tomorrow ~ same time and same station
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2018
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