by and by
when morning comes to call
we are allowed one more blank set

of seconds
of minutes
and hours

and we rise up, calling ourselves
blessed. . .
cursed. . .
lucky. . .
sometimes we're just confused. .  .

but once again,
just out of habit and the sheer need
to empty our full bladders,
we rise;

and day by day,
we forget the necessity of

emptying our lives of the
greed and the need to be
accepted by people who
truly hate our guts

. . . but are just wrapped too tight to say it

and by and by, we age
and we fight nature
and lose the conflict against ourselves
because we forget to count our blessings.

 © 2006, cynth’ya lewis reed
All rights reserv’d 
 
 
     Cynth'ya Lewis Reed at Authors Den