Stones Washed Gently by Water Ron AI

Wishy-Washy

I must write this poem before I get old,

Some leaders accused of being, 

lackadaisical, timid and meek, 

not at all decisive and bold.

Like all the sharp stones 

get thrown up on the beach,

Worn by wind and water,

Into soft, rounded edges,

Lambs to the slaughter.

Wisdom within reach.

Not with hate-preach.

Best to be wishy-washy,

And learn to be wise.

Scrub knowledge from stone, so I thought

The fastest way to glory,

To get the best prize.

For in the end what counts,

Is not fortune and fame,

But to live your life well,

And keep your good name.

Copyright 2026 © Ronald W. Hull

4/1/26

You can read and print this poem at my website here.