Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
The streets are deserted; the cars are done beeping
It is silent, apart from the willow tree's weeping
And even old Mr. McRoger is sleeping.

            (Mr. McRoger, I'm sure you have guessed,
            Is a make-believe man who does not like to rest.

            Although, when he finally does get to bed,
            His sleep is so deep you'd have thought he was dead!

            ...You'd have thought so,
                     if not for the sound of his snoring
            which some of his neighbors have trouble ignoring.
            But back to our story, before it gets boring)

Not one suicidal remains on the bridge!
Not one midnight snacker is left in the fridge!
All are asleep on this side of the lake.
And if all are asleep ...

                            ... why are YOU still awake?

It is dark, which surely you know means it's night
And the thing to be done is to put out the light
And if the thing to be done's not the thing that you do
Then SOMETHING inside must be bothering you!

You're much too mature
and clever, I'm sure
        To be frightened of monsters
and things that might **** you

You're not old enough
to be stressed about stuff
        Such as taxes, and how much
the grocery might bill you

SO ...

If it's dark and it's night and your age isn't three
And you don't pay for food cause you get it for free
Then there's only one thing it can possibly be

You, my friend, must be the sort of young lad
Who can't fall asleep cause he's simply too sad.

I know how you're feeling; I've seen it before
You feel like you just can't go on anymore

You've sunken so deep and you've fallen so low
That you think,
            "Just how low can I possibly go?
            Of all the lows, this one's the lowliest spot.
            Can I go any lower? Why, no, I cannot."

Well, I'm here to tell you, you can and you will!
In just a few days you will sink lower still!
And lower and lower and lower UNTIL...
THIS low will seem like the top of a hill!

UNLESS ...

Things COULD get better.
They COULD, but they WON'T.
They could and they should and they would,
                               but they DON'T.

SO ...

Since you must be exhausted
from digging that deep,
You may as well
just go to sleep.
Chabadtzke
Written by
Chabadtzke  21/M/New York
(21/M/New York)   
244
       James Newton and ConnectHook
Please log in to view and add comments on poems