What's the Horror?
by Michael Doyle

What's the horror, you might ask.
It seems my life is an endless task
It seems what I take off the list
It only points to things that I've missed

In this rush toward year's end
It seems I've not been my friend
So much is left completely undone
Aren't the holidays supposed to be fun?

There are so many significant deadlines
They all rush at me like exploding landmines
I wish I were a pearl of a changing shell
I need someplace else to hide and dwell

What I'd give for streamlined productivity
When I focused instead of living at liberty
There's a reluctance to do anything at all
When you've hit the edge of your resistance wall

My guess is that it's not really something to repress
There's something to be said for the human mess
Let's all hail the blessed power of entropy
Can I get an amen? Or at least a little empathy?

Living is for the living gained from what we learn
All the happy little sorrows that we come to earn
But let's not ruin this time of blessed holidays
The new year will bring its own share of these days

(c) December 4, 2024   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved