The Toilet
When all goes down the toilet and you lose your life’s work
And you’re told to reinvent yourself, what’s wrong with you, you jerk?
Oh sure, I was this before and now I’m going to be that.
I’ll make up for thirty years work lost and soon again I’ll be fat.
You live in fear every day, on how to pay your bills.
When a few short years ago, you enjoyed all life’s frills.
You wake up in the morning never wanting to get out of bed
Knowing full well, you’ll face another day of painful endless dread.
What’s wrong with me, I’m educated, I’ve lived a life supreme.
And now that all is lost, that life is but a dream.
So why can I not invent another reason for being?
Life has much to offer, what is it I’m not seeing?
The past is the past, can’t change it in any way.
So where is this great wisdom to put me on my way?
Why am I so blind to all opportunities that await?
Why can’t I get this car in gear and forge ahead, relate.
It’s so much easier to do when you are in your twenties.
Your parents will take you in until you find life aplenty.
Face this challenge when you’re sixty one and you will surely find
That life’s not easy, terribly queasy, forever in a bind.
How does one rise above a life he didn’t plan?
How does one become a successful, shiny brand new man?
I have no answer, no matter what the advice.
All I know that life is truly a “roll of the dice.”
So even though I have days and days with endless, endless tears.
Something deep inside of me says, “Weather all these bad years.”
So if my inner voice is guided by my past pure beliefs
Then tomorrow there is a chance, I’ll get past all this grief.
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