Your Poetry Dot Com - Misanthrope

I hand myself these challenges
and if I win
I preen;

I hand myself these challenges
and if I lose
knowledge and experience I guess I gain;

I hand myself still greater challenges
and hope they don't
ending up educating me to death;

Surviving then
the worst of these,
if lucky,
I could be crippled for life
but end up very very wise.

You know
I'd rather skip
the educated, crippled and dead part
and also the physical decay
and perhaps too
skip the birth
and go straight to heaven in one piece
one day,

where God and and I could discuss
the Joys and the Dreads
in the presence of the angels
and delightful cherubic lads.

Thereby I could gain immortality
and never ever
have to get dead.

Humm..
All and all
I think
my idea is best in many ways.

But if you are reading this
you are already alive
having made your first mistake;

that of having been born
and probably depending on age
very very very wise.

Womb Return and Womb Pilgrimages
are clearly out of fashion
and since you've no transcript
of your conversations with God
you have to
like I,
stop complaining
and make the best
of this life on earth;
and reconcile
yourself to this:
The Grand In-Between.

This poem is Copyright © lnnie