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They Are Not The Kind
Am I stuck to plunge,
When I have not desired this?
They have been the wicked ones...
May I slip away and exit this ship?
I have been a servant.
Not a master of any ways.
I do what I must do then leave.
I have let them believe I am their slave.
However...
What is going on today,
Looks a bit bleak.
And under sunrays appears very grave.
There has been so many messages,
Delivered to these folks.
Everything they heard that warned...
They turned into a festival,
Backstabbed messengers...
And made them jokes to poke!
Am I stuck to plunge,
When I have not desired this?
They have been the wicked ones...
May I slip away and exit this ship?
OR...
If I may make one suggestion?
Those sitting over there,
Have the expertise...
To repair this like brand new!
They can...
And do that quick!
But, of course, I understand...
They are not the kind,
You wish to see command!
Correct?
poem
by
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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