100 Words: That Life

It’s waiting for you,
that life you’ve put aside
again and again.
Waiting for you
to pull it out,
polish it up,
get it on two wheels
and give it a push.
It’s there, that life,
waiting for you
to reach in and grab hold of its guts,
give it a pull-start.
It’s screaming for you, that life,
reaching out a hand,
at the end of its rope,
hanging on,
waiting for you
to save it.
That life you neglect.
That life you left.
That life you didn’t want
but were given anyway.
Might as well
make something of it.

No tags for this post.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Go ahead -- say something. Anything.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.