The Misguided Pessimist Of Old London Town Poem by Denis Martindale

Think of the blessings this man missed, the kisses that girls share,
Good tidings he chose to resist, insisting on despair.
The melancholy midnights known with lack of sleep as well,
To overthink while all alone, as if within a spell.
Think of the lessons that exist, the fortunes to be made,
The bargains for his shopping list, yet he remained afraid.
That's why he stocked up now and then, with all his shelves kept full,
With sell-by dates of way-back-when and further than recall.
His lonely life remained forlorn. Way too shy to mingle.
Think of the children never born, that man staying single.
But while he put a brave face on, his face was getting old,
Because at last, his youth had gone as he watched life unfold.
If only he had earned enough, but taxes made him poor,
So scared each time he fell in love because he needed more.
He never dated in his life, spent decades on the dole,
So how could he afford a wife, or play a husband's role,
Or raise a friendly family, despite their priceless worth?
That pessimist knew poverty like no-one else on Earth.
But that changed in his latter years when he was sixty-five,
No longer bound by all his fears and glad to be alive.
And now well able to donate… supporting charities
And thinking back, was this his fate, His Sovereign Lord to please?
By faith, he stayed the course of time, that led to getting here,
To precious years that were sublime and brought him so much cheer.
How many folks has he helped now? He simply cannot say,
Yet he helped thousands to allow these thankful folks to pray.
No child has he, except for these, their names God only knows,
But this man prays with perfect peace, the peace that true love shows.
Yet I'm that man who writes these lines, this is my lifelong tale,
No sweethearts and no Valentines… I'm Denis Martindale.


Denis Martindale May 2020.