Philosophizing
Straitened are the times
And tight is my pocket.
A glass of brandy
Consumed with contemplation
Is hard to bargain
As speculators have poured in
Shouting ‘buy’, ‘buy’, ‘buy’.
Since out is the signal
The hoarders have barged in
And have emptied the market
Of all the brandy, inclusive of
The liquors that brandished
Even a semblance of flavor
That reminded them of this brand.
After the run-on brandy
Its prices have rocketed sky-high.
Engulfed by indignation
But still the avid lover
That I am of this brand,
I emptied my purse
To offer me a bottle of brandy.
Sipping the liquor in a glass
And immersed in happiness
I sat reinstated to my senses
And to the art of philosophizing,
And wondered whether the glass
That I held in my hand
Was half-full or half-empty.
Misfit to this treacherous art
But tied to pitfalls in my daily life,
I sat there and gazed contently
Through my half-filled glass
With intent and pride, enthralled
That I did not have to complain
About things I can’t change.
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