Snapped in Mexico, months ago. What flowers are left are all covered in snow here in the bootheel of Missouri.
For Cee’s FOTD
Divided We Fall
As we bicker on the web, as we snipe and snooze,
soothing our hurt feelings with doobies or with booze,
our rulers are sequestered, each pondering on his throne,
deciding what new property to seize and make their own.
A chunk from social security, another bit from schools.
So long as we’re not educated, we’ll remain their fools.
Cut taxes for their cronies and let them drill for oil
in our nature preserves until we start to boil.
Record heat in one spot and fires in another.
Record snow and hurricanes. We drown or freeze or smother.
They are not going to notice these travesties and glitches,
for they’re busy in their counting rooms, counting out their riches.
What percentage earned today? What yachts to buy tomorrow?
The fortune that they earn today is mankind’s future sorrow.
If we stay divided, we play into their plans.
We keep each other busy as they work on their tans!
The prompt words today were snooze, property, sequester and percentage.
Here are the links:
I wish I’d set the truth aside.
I wish instead that I had lied
when you asked the reason why
I didn’t choose the other guy.
I wish I’d said you’d won my heart
quickly, from the very start.
But, alas, I told the truth.
Blame it on my careless youth.
It was, perhaps, naïveté
that made me answer you that way.
I said you were my second choice,
then heard that quaver in your voice.
For all those years forever after,
I’ve recalled your bitter laughter
as you said you guessed you’d wait
for the type of girl who’d rate
you first when making her selection,
and thus began your swift defection.
After all these years, I’ll tell
that I remember very well
regrets I suffered at your leaving—
all those nights of futile grieving.
Watching as you met your wife,
had your kids and built your life.
Every few years at class reunions
as we all share our fond communions,
I’ll catch your eye and feel the spark
that goes unnoticed in the dark.
And every day, until I die,
I’ll wish I’d told that little lie.
The prompt: Write about a conversation you wish you’d never had. For Matt’s Daily Inkling prompt.
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