Amateurs Poem by Richard Jarboe
Amateurs
In this new age of amateurs,
Dropping the ball endlessly,
There's a few commissioners,
Who can't seem to find me.
Mobility is a must,
But with all that naval gazing,
Who is driving the bus?
In an all-male excursion,
Amateurs from the start,
There's always another version,
Of smiling and falling apart.
Tuesday, July 23, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: people
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4/26/2024 2:48:46 PM # 1.0.0.1119
