To Lead A Life Of Quiet Desperation Poem by Theresa Dould Cummings

To Lead a Life Of Quiet Desperation

Sitting at an office desk and pondering
the world at hand.
He gazes out the window sharpening
the final pencil.
Is this all? He asked while looking
at the phone, incessant ringing
ringing and more ringing looking for
its prey.
A new adventure to be planned.
A new place to spend more time
dreaming of the one who always was.
Standing up, firmly placing
hands in pockets, jiggling the keys
to places and things paid
with sweat and toil these many years.
Where am I, he firmly asks
his telephone, again.
The lights and sounds, incessant
blinking and beeping, calling out
his name. So many manufactured
noises, unrepentant to his
agonizing quests. Of where he is
And where to go, and is there time enough
for me? Will she love me?
For the man that I am now?
He knows the answer as he
knows himself, for she will never leave.
She is the one true constant
with faith in him alone.
She knows the man
before her, no agenda
to blind her way
.
Theresa Dould Cummings© 11/05/2008

.