Sight

One last stab in the dark.

What more could there be?

Even my shadow sees the writing

On a wall he can’t read,

But likes to touch, nevertheless,

Because he knows it’s there.

I’ve come up empty, yet again,

And know the fix is in,

Keeping me on the ground,

Although I can’t figure out

Why success is a lake of failure

In my dreams, night after night.

If I could simply resist

Each doubt about me—

Chalk it up to bad luck—

I might crawl through a hole

Deep enough to reach bottom,

Find a single shaft of light,

Where sight remains possible.

Lozenge

I require a lozenge or two,

At all hours of the day,

For whatever ails me—

A quick and easy fix.

This tiny, tasty diamond

Makes the pain subside,

Vanish almost completely,

Before discomfort arrives.

The very idea of suffering

Does not appeal to me,

Causes such intense grief,

I take to bed, immediately,

If it should be available.

Why endure needless distress

When rest and medication

Provide wonders for the soul.

Yes, even the humble pastille

Serves a noble purpose.

Without it, I’m afraid,

The unpleasantness of life

Becomes too much to bear.

The Bar

We’ve set the bar

Far too high to grasp.

All this wasted space

Between here and tomorrow.

Don’t know why it’s so.

How we misjudge heights,

Level after level after level—

The reach, impossible, at best.

If only we might re-measure.

Calibrate from a safe distance.

Evaluate what’s essential.

Allow accuracy its due.

Then we may stand a chance

To arrive at success,

Instead of these long sighs,

Uttered at each rung we climb—

Failure, just a matter of time.

Perhaps, we should return to school.

Learn the basics we were taught,

Or start from the beginning,

Before we venture out,

Try our luck again.