Why Sweat The Small Stuff Poem by Donal Mahoney

My wife told the mailman
she plans to leave me

and my boss said Friday
I've been laid off.

My doctor says
I need four stents

even though
I'm not that old.

My son hates our nation
and plans to join ISIS

and my daughter says
she's three months pregnant.

Last night I told my story
to a drunk at the corner tavern.

He used to be a preacher
and now can't find a job.

He says I shouldn't worry
about life's ups and downs

because if, like him, I'm saved,
why sweat the small stuff.