Friday FictionPoem: 100 Word Challenge

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by Smitty

Ponder

So here I ponder, tired, aghast:
Just how long can this nonsense last?
Is it merely the same old noise,
Heard by this ruin’s builder’s boys?
The endless human song and dance
Beats you far past the point of pants.
Finds you here, posed as The Thinker,
(Since you are not quite a drinker)
Hoping for some enlightenment,
Wee tiny bit of comfort sent,
From the Creator, far above,
Looking downward, one hopes, with love,
On quite a dodgy, noisy lot,
(The wages Adam’s sin had got)
And so oft given to wonder,
If the answer’s in the ponder.

 

via Darleen

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