It’s twenty after two in the morning.
I feel like a wet rag, spent like an old hose.
Nothing spit and polished about me
I just lay here in my old gym clothes.
There’s someplace I really should be but find myself unable to go.
Wait, aren’t I the star of the show?
I should prepare myself for the black-tie affair.
What a shame, who’s to blame?
I look dapper in my black and white,
the jacket cut too slim, the pants just a tad too tight.
I think I’m going to shed me a tear
Damn I need to get some sleep!
It’s seventeen after four in the morning.
I stopped counting sheep hours ago and still not a wink.
When the last woolly jumped over the fence, it was number 973.
This whole thing makes no sense to me.
I close my eyes for a second hoping for some sleep,
but the only thing I see is one last roque sheep.
Must be the odd fellow in the herd, who kind’a fell behind
and from whom, just like me, not a word has been heard.
It’s twenty-nine after seven in the morning.
I flip on my iPhone, 43 messages await me.
I know there’s not one kind one, how could there possibly be?
The witching hour is at noon.
I’m supposed to walk down the aisle with my bride,
but I can’t muster the courage, my only option is to hide.
They’ve searched throughout the night.
When I didn’t show up for the pre-wedding dinner,
I must have given them all such a fright.
I love Amy with all my heart and soul.
Can’t help wondering am I the fool?
This is her fifth marriage, but only my first time.
Am I just another in a long line?
From a single man of forty-three, to instant father of seven,
There’s a hell of a lot here to digest!
When she asked me to marry her should I not have said yes?
Only three months in and I’m kissing my freedom and money good bye,
I keep asking myself “Why, why, why?”
It’s four after eight in the morning.
There’s a knocking on my hotel door.
I think they found me, now what’s in store?
Do I man-up and join the dance, can there really be any romance?
Oh, no! It’s Amy’s brother - big, bad Joe.
I’m either getting married or I’m going to die, this I know!
It’s thirty-seven after twelve in the afternoon.
I just said yes, I’ve sold my soul.
Yes, sold my soul, I guess.
I just married the clan.
I’m now that married man.
I guess I best be working on my exit plan.
I just don’t see myself as THAT MARRIED MAN!
5/26/2021 08:08:00 am
RE: "If I were a chiseled man." If you find the soft marble, and have the chisel, I have the hammer.
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