Thoughts From Those Who Ought Not Drink Coffee

We are all constantly reaching a certain age
When the Door to the Kingdom shuts behind us
And we half glance over our shoulder to see
That it’s too late, really

We know of that Other Girl in the choir
Who is asked to step up for the solo
And her family coos and the reception people smile
And we ourselves aren’t asked back the next year

And we fall off the balance beam
To the merriment of all
And the world tells us that no matter how we try
We’ll never be the sparkle make-up wearing ingénue
Arching tall upon the mat as the crowds cheer

And so we shuffle our way forwards
Wondering if the next year might hold
A turn in the woods
Beyond which lies
A gold stone path

And the day comes
When we are too old to be Dorothy
We will never meet the Wizard
But then again
We don’t fear the Monkeys

For the world loves the young
To cherish
And to eat
But only the choice ones are taken
And the rest are let alone on the kerb

With my plain mucked shoes dangling
Over the gutter water of time
I pull my feet underneath myself
And step into the rain
To drown
Perchance to dream