Spotlight Drunk
The challenges...
Are real.
The competition?
Also real.
The feelings...
Those are real,
Real. Real!
These egos are spotlight drunk.
Who will get that slam dunk...
Depicting my qualifications,
To be the man I am?
Well...
That seems to be me.
I don't seek confirmation.
Or anyone to agree.
And no candidate running for public office,
Is going to convince my landlord...
To whom I pay rent.
The grocer...
To whom I spend nearly my last cent!
Or those who supply my utilities...
If I have the ability to keep them on!
And 'if' I can do these things on credit.
I have never approached them to ask!
Not once have they expressed concern,
How I affirm my actions!
They just are tired of hearing me say...
'The check is in the mail.'
Except for the grocer.
If I go in without cash...
I come out with no packed bags.
No one negotiates,
Not even for a loaf of bread...
Milk, eggs or one grape!
If you are in line with items,
Be prepared to pay!
And no one making speeches,
On the streets with rolled up sleeves.
Or from behind podiums...
Suited in silk and tied down,
Will express my cause...
With a delivery to my door,
Of cash...
I can hold in my hands!
For however long that may last.
Somehow...
I know this!
That's just the reality I live.
With none of it being staged.
Or graded for the performance.
Somehow...
I know this!
And my best routine?
That's keeping my head above water.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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