The Gift, Then the Complaint

The Gift, Then The Complaint Gladly if only, I had nothing to say, I could just murmur and walk far away Instead I write to spend my new day doing so with no acclaim and no pay! This life can be so mysterious indeed first you may refuse to stop or plead Yet time brings its own eternal whip a cut each little time you dare slip! No great solace lasts more than a week future may grant but tis' only a peek A sight given to beg the mind to see To climb the tallest mountain to plea! Of course the world cries out to stop toss away the fine broom and dirty mop With much deeper sinister cry and hue dire threats blast you right on cue! Gladly if only, I had nothing to say, I could just murmur and walk far away Instead I write to spend my new day doing so with no acclaim and no pay! Robert J. Lindley, 07-15-2015 Note-- No serious complaining my friends. I write poetry because it is in my blood. Acclaim and/or pay would just be icing on the cake were they ever to appear. I expect only to be read and if thats all-fine by me.