(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

One Man's Foot Stool Is Another Man's Ladder

Have you ever stopped to take stock,
By inventoring those who remain as adversaries?
Those who took their time to find 'something' wrong you did?
And over the years and in retrospect,
There is a comfort you've obtain they still can not respect.

And yet,
Their neglected lives are in shambles!
And something inside you stops short...
Of doubling over in uncontrollable laughter?
And you know even expressing a broad smile,
Or a giggle is inappropriate.

Suppose the shoe was on the other foot?
Even though it isn't...
Just imagine that it was!

And then...
All of a sudden,
You hear the voice of your mother saying,
'God does not like ugly.
And...
One man's foot stool is another man's ladder! '

Huh?
What?
Ma...?
Nevermind!

And the tears begin to fill your eyes,
Trying to hold inside of yourself...
The pain held from not letting go,
Of a roaring laugh that is felt!
But you know...
Mama knows best!

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