A Hole I Dug … [ Toil; Humanity; Misery; Futility; God; Future Generations; Sort Of Short]
In my youth I began to dig a hole ….
by Bri Edwards
in which to bury the woes of the world.
But as I dug (some said: 'like a ‘mad' mole') ,
more and MORE worldly woes unfurled.
I'd throw mounds of dirt to every side,
making room for murder, greed, and rape.
But the more I dug, the more I found to hide:
thievery; drug abuse; too much ‘red tape'.
In adulthood, in my prime, ……I kept digging.
Bulldozers, not shovels, I did ….use then.
I worked night and day, the toil was unforgiving.
I dreamed I'd finish, but I had no guess when.
Woes I'd once thought were buried …..kept returning.
I was a damn fool to think I'd gotten them ‘once and for ….all'.
And NEW woes for Mankind were now churning.
Had God kept sending woes since Eve and Adam's FALL ….from grace?
In my old age, I stopped excavating;
my life's work had seemed a forsaken waste.
It mostly just brought stress, constipating.
NOW I sought a laxative, in dire haste.
But, alas, my grandchild took up the task,
the task at which I'd spent much precious time.
I did not tell her why I quit; she did not ask.
Perhaps she'll have better luck than I did ….in my prime.