Forgottenman gave me a prompt tonight, just for the fun of it. and said he’d do it, also. The word he gave me was cul de sac, and here’s my poem, for what it’s worth. (It’s 1:34 a.m., I had 4 hours of sleep last night and I hope I’m about to get a better night’s sleep tonight.)
Stuck here in this cul-de-sac,
my mental skills are out of whack,
and I don’t seem to have the knack
for learning lessons as I look back.
I’m tortured as if on the rack.
My muscles wrench and joints all crack
my loosening bones go click clack clack.
With prospects dim, my soul is black.
Value in life is what I lack.
My life’s comprised of bric-a-brac.
I circle round and round the track,
until I’ve lost my will to quack.
The prompt word today is “trust.” It may not be obvious what this poem has to do with the prompt word today, but actually it has everything to do with trusting yourself and your own unique views of life and to resist “losing your quack” and settling back into being like everyone else. The narrator of this poem is not me. It is only who I am determined not to become.
Since both the illustration and the shape of the poem are trees, I think it is also appropriate for Becca’s Sunday Tree Challenge.