gkpoetry

About five creeps, who mooned him and his girl
When they were parked on shadow lane and taunted
The two disheveled dressing in a swirl,
He can’t unring the bell of fear they flaunted.

The woman, who berated him and shared
Her stinging blues, seemed angrily off course.
He really tries to not look back to where
Her snapshot judgment froze in place remorse.

A teacher might have raised his grade a notch
But sticking to the rules did not. Implored
To no avail he did this vital crutch
And ate his groveling sadly ignored.

His skillful “friend” aloof, who’d always kept
His distance, him he viewed as reticent
And not a person haughtiness adept.
Misjudged again, that “friendship” came and went.

He doesn’t march around with pompous grin
Nor quite forget his distant gaffes or blots.
No shrines for him, imagines thicker skin
To look at past miscues and say, “So What!”

Yet, as he drives the car around and through
His yard sale of regrets, he pays the toll
Of knowing mettle never did imbue
His soul. For that, he’d always drawn the dole.

(See “A Finished Man” by Richard Wilbur)