Maybe Someday Poem by Edith Niemeyer

MAYBE SOMEDAY

Maybe Someday?

asked Better Judgment.

Nope.

Not just another day—

any other day.

Better Judgment replied,

hands in her pockets,

his toes turned outward,

ready to

sprint out the door.

Hanging, unfortunately,

from my tattered coat sleeve

by just a mere thread.

Mind you—

it wasn't

obtrusivly sturdy:

that little thread of mine.

Hem—

one stitch.

Then two.

A... way.....

Stitchery—

taking flight...

Oops.

He forgot...

can't fly.

Out jumped

Annoyance.

Overcomed he

threw the stitch

right through....

Hmm.

Where did that

Stitchery vanquished to?

Forgotten—

he missed the point,

captured the hem.

Better Judgment

lost all balance,

flying up

the downstairs case—

heel over head—

to Someday's amusement.

Maybe replied,

**"Well...

that went over

like a lead balloon."**

Naturally,

I followed.

Not downstairs.

Not upstairs.

But somewhere

in the consequences

between.

By then,

Seriousness

was hanging

by the hem of—

something.

Can't remember what.

Lost the thread.

Possibly

the plot.

Definitely

the handle.

Off it I've flown.

And there went

Maybe Someday—

running behind me,

shouting something

about thinking this through.

Too late.

Thinking

had already called ahead

and cancelled

its reservation.

So I shifted gears.

Reverse?

Too sensible.

Overdrive?

Been there.

Neutral?

Never cared

for commitment.

Therefore—

UNDER-DRIVE.

Annoyance piped in—

"Under where? "

Under—

I stopped.

He waited.

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

Better Judgment

groaned from somewhere

up the downstairs case—

"Don't."

Too late.

UNDERWEAR.

Seriousness

finally

lost...

all grip

on the hem.

Maybe laughed.

Someday was—

unimpressed,

to say the very

LEAST.

SO... IF...

your Stitchery

becomes unruly

and refuses

to comply? ? ?

Don't pull

the thread.

Don't mend

the matter.

And whatever you do—

don't try

getting it together.

**Together already left

without you.**

Apparently,

Stitchery took that

rather personally.

It leaned—

a little left...

a little right...

leaned a bit

too far into—

flight.

Or what it

thought was flight.

Last seen

taking flight....

Up a step.

Down a step.

Which way

are you turned?

One?

Or two?

Or three...?

You sure?

Hmmmm....

about this....

Looks like—

an oops.

Forgotten again....

Stitchery's flyless.

And Good Sense—

final arrival,

looked up...

looked down...

looked sideways...

and, of course, around....

And not

dropping the ball,

he excitedly exclaimed—

"CASE DISMISSED! "

"Not so fast...."

exclaimed

Someday,

scurrying

for—

within

the downstairs

casings.

Good Sense

turned.

Someday stopped.

Better Judgment

didn't dare.

Stitchery—

still flyless.

A pause.

Then—

**Someday's

Good Sense? ? **

Good Sense

looked at Someday.

Someday

looked at Maybe.

Maybe...

looked away.

Apparently,

Maybe had a case.

Then again....

Maybe

always does.

That's the trouble

with Maybe.

Give it

one possibility—

and it'll make

a whole case

out of it.

Someday sighed.

Good Sense

reconsidered.

Better Judgment

remained

noncommittal.

Stitchery?

Flyless.

...

Seriously?

Seriousness

looked up.

"What? "

Still

without

a grip.

Naturally.

And me?

I stood there

holding

the one thread

everybody

had been losing.

Then again....

perhaps

it wasn't

lost.

Perhaps

I had been

holding it

all along.

Someday smiled.

"Exactly."

Maybe shrugged.

"Someday? "

I looked

at the thread.

Looked

at Someday.

And for once—

I didn't say maybe.

I said—

TODAY.

☙🪶〰︎ Original Work — Words & Lyrics © Edith Lynn Niemeyer 〰︎🖋️❧
🎶 Music & Vocals created with Suno AI
✨ Creative collaboration with Serenity