I hang from the top shelf of a hard life
like a dusty and old lambrequin
Thus tattered by parasitic mites and torn
from the sheer weight of my grasp
I gaze at the many rich food stuffs and prized
white elephants that safely exist
Just beyond my tried and failed reach in my futile
attempt to possess their reward
Like the meaningless shiny things carried back
to the nest by a greedy crow
And placed there in the sunny window
of its relatively darkened existence
Purely but significantly as a trophy to be
seen and thereby envied for its plumage
Though it be of anything other than a strictly
ornamental garnishment or trinket
With not even the abilities of a b_stard wing
let alone provision or stipulation
I hang from the top shelf of a hard life….
Not wanting to quit or give
When I still have the strength to hang on
ten seconds longer than the next guy….
2008 © T Sheridan