'Round the corner, down the block
catch it, quick,
that curious life that flits ahead
that might have been yours-
the one you might have lived
did this one not suit better-
were you not You.
Follow its hollow footfall
down the street, to the alley
that dog-legs to the river
through the once-nice neighborhood-
hurry, it's slipping ahead:
the life you can neither quite
capture nor shake-
that might have fattened
as your heart grew thin,
primped as your soul grew bare,
The life of un-knowing,
that, expecting you,
grew tired of waiting,
ordered, ate and went off alone
that would have left you
stopped in the dark atop a busted Ferris wheel
your car creaking gently.
When you catch it, backslap it
say it's looking well
call it all for the better.
Invite it back for a drop.
Say you agree with its compromise.
Better weighed by Regret,
apologize. Explain, with a grin
how Better must always, always win.
over its thrifty counterpart.
Be of good cheer.
Wish it well and send it back
off into the dark.
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Comments about this poem (Other by Morgan Michaels )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
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