If You Mourn For Me, Mourn Happy

IF YOU MOURN FOR ME, MOURN HAPPY He sat on the laminate floor reading poems he had written years ago He read them and asked himself did I really write these? He was surprised the poems were that good After all these years, they’re still good and relevant, he said to himself Though he had been published in a few magazines many years ago he was never considered to be at the top rung of the list of poets The more he read his poems the more his tears flowed memories flooded his mind of his ill-fated expectations But Life is what it is only passing out a few genius tags in any field when looking for glory in any artistic endeavor leaving your ego at the entrance of the work room is critical Mindful that all work is only as good as the artist’s diligence It’s the work that’s ultimately important he told himself In his youth he looked for the payoff and waited for glory but unable to comprehend Life's vagaries, expectation died losing the dream Later, in understanding those truths Reality became more evident He had gotten old and wiser But not necessarily smarter Adulthood might have shown up sooner with patience but comprehending the end times are around the corner is like knowing the rent is due and the landlord will kick you out or when a good musician disappears in the ether of a killer addiction Or like God’s benevolent hands around your throat with happy Satan laughing in your face or the pathetic smile we display when remembering the man that was and the words he wrote as an old man Today if by chance you see me lying dead you may mourn for me let your feelings go as a bluesman lets go into the blues a lesson in acceptance and surrender So if you mourn me, mourn happy.