Life Was Just

It was tomorrow
The day she would get married
She was in rush
To pick up the wedding dress plush
Before the store closed
She would not care
If somebody happened to say
Life was generous with new options

In a house not so far
From where she lived
Woke up a guy
Into his usual jobless day.
Nothing was different
From yesterday.
And no exception was today.

He got into his car
To catch an appointment
He was in rush
Before he ran out of gas
He would not care
If somebody happened to say
Life was abundant in opportunities


Meanwhile in another car
A guy was pushing his foot
On the gas pedal afar
As his daughter was on await
Crying at school
He was in rush
Before the teacher went mad
He would not care
If somebody happened to say
Life was patience.

A grandma was on her way
To draw money
For a surprise
To her grandson, Ronney.
She was fast at her walk
She was in rush
To get the money
Before the branch closed
She would not care
If somebody happened to say
Life was just not haste to spare.

Their names did not matter,
You can name them
If you want to natter,
As Jess, George, Frank and Heather

Soon, it started to rain
All of a sudden
Unexpected and insane,
As roads got slippery and sullen.

Then Grandma stopped at red
Without an umbrella and wet
She could not wait any more
And She did not want
To see the bank closed
It was a single step
To start the thunders
First, Jess pushed on the brakes
That was not what
George ever expected
As his car bumped into hers
Next, it was Frank
To bury his car into others
Already crashed and smashed

That day, there was none
To survive that crash
Everything occurred
Instant and in a rash
Who wast to blame?

They all wanted to catch
Whatever the day had to hatch
They were in rush
Before something went trash.
They would not care
If somebody happened to say
Life was too short for one to glare!

by Junate Ers.

Other poems of ERS. (8)

Comments (4)

Many great details of the universe in this write. Whitmans love for nature is evident in this write. Enthralling.
Whitman has such a wonderful feel and melody - words so well written and composed. But this is perhaps a bit too long for me - the daily reader - perhaps more for students who have time to study the assonance Whitman pulls from thin air. As a browser though I must say the first few stanzas exhausted my time.
Under Thee only they harvest- even but a wisp of hay, under thy great face, only; Harvest the wheat of Ohio, Illinois, Wisconsin- every barbed spear, under thee; Great poet and great the poetic talent. Always feel quiet submissive with the radiation of such uttered words.
Long well written poem.