To Never Again Be Continued

There are limits to playing one's fool.
And the odds are against,
The one mistaking another...
To be tolerant.
With an abundance of patience.

There are limits to playing one's fool.
And the odds are against,
The one finding that a dropping out of sight...
Without showing signs of regret,
Becomes solidified as time goes by.

A taking from another giving,
And with selfish disrespect...
Ends with a definite conclusion.
To never again be continued,
As a means to use as if expected.

One monkey may not stop a show.
But that monkey who has left the scene,
Has probably determined that a giving of time...
And patience spent has not been beneficial,
With a returning of appropriate dividends.

Alas...
With a lassitude that debilitates a fatiquing trashed,
There are no arguments to welcome.
And none offered again to pass to enfeeble.
Not on 'this' watch to sap strength to weaken.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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