Hands On Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

So difficult it is,
To be that someone known...
As a hands on and disciplined individual.
Who can get a job done to do it well.
And is supported by others,
Eager to share skills.
That benefits them all.
Than it is to be someone,
With their hands on abilities...
Full to the brim with undisciplined adults.
Unable to listen and argue amongst themselves.
As if sugar fed children,
Bouncing off the walls.
And jumping around as if Santa's elves.
Especially in places,
In which guidance and leadership...
Is neither respected nor given attention.
The moment Christmas gifts,
Are announced to be handed out.
To leave someone who is hands on,
Shouting for quiet and patience.
And left ignored to debate,
Whether it would be more advantageous...
To find the nearest dope dealer.
Or drink alcohol everyday.
Clutching onto a bottle that is guzzled.
To numb away the effects.
Of a craze they accepted to believe,
They were more than qualified to improve.
To eventually realize,
Psychiatry is not their expertise!
Nor is babysitting an agreement to have made.
To discover they have been hand cuffed.
And imprisoned.
For attempting to discipline adults.
Totally out of control.
Worse than school aged children.
But can not explain to anyone why,
While doing it under the influence of alcohol...
They found that appropriate and necessary.
To accomplish the impossible.