Promptitude Poems | Examples

The Wall

I stay on this side of the wall,
Where the wind is sharp,
And the stars shine.
I go about my daily chores
With fervor and promptitude. 
Cutting the grass, clearing the fallen leaves,
And letting the vines hang on the wall. 
I am happily discontent.

But, when it comes climbing over the vines, 
Precariously, to my own side of the wall, 
My precious side of the wall,
I become unhappily discontent. 
Lightning thunders with admonition,
And the morning light shuns me.
And before I can discern my malcontent,
I find I have broken down the wall.

I cast my blubbery eyes upon the broken pieces,
Hurl a few of them around,
At nothing in particular, and prostrate, 
Hoping for mercy. 
And when the snot dries up the next day,
I pick myself up from the stone cold floor,
Set brick upon brick,
And build the wall again.