Sonny Rainshine


Upon Outing My Friend As An Optimist - Poem by Sonny Rainshine

I want the old you back.
You were my Edgar Allen Poet
and I could always be sure
that no matter how crappy I felt,
you felt crappier.
Now you’ve betrayed me
and have become happier.

Who do you think you are,
Walt Whitman? All smiles
and lilacs blooming in your dooryard;
It’s all very disturbing,
curbing your lack of enthusiasm.
You’re up on the pinnacle of joy
while I’m teetering on the chasm.

Your favorite past-time
was to crash a funeral,
pretending you’re Maud
and I’m Harold.
Now it’s weddings and christenings
every day. Hey,
what happened to serious stuff like Death?
What led you astray?

It looks as though
everyone I know
is embracing la vie en rose.
What’s the gloomy-gus to do;
where are we to go?
I must find an antidote to purge
the happy virus. Anyone know
a good elegy or a dirge?

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Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep



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Poem Submitted: Sunday, September 30, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, April 12, 2011


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