NOT BORN FOR GREATNESS

NOT BORN FOR GREATNESS

I was not born for greatness,

Not even on the wait list,

I try but all I do is cry

Then go back to my boisterous nap,

Such a disingenuous chap.

Perhaps one day, I'll earn my wings,

Aspire to great and lofty things.

But for now I slouch and hide,

Mindful of the dark divide 

That poaches so many of my desperate days.

Carrying those away.

Why are my eyelids always fluttering

Why am I lost in a dreamless sleep, 

Why do the antidepressants I take

Only serve to make me weep?

Why when I wake up in the morning

Are the contents of my night table scattered on the floor?

Is it a prank from my boyfriend, is it just the wind?

Must be my REM sleep disorder acting up again.

I was not born for greatness,

Not even on the wait list.

I may have some greatness stashed away,   

Being hoarded for some stormy days

But by the time I excavate the greatness, 

its goodness shatters to pieces in the hall,

I brace myself for the tumble and fall

Once again, the Parkinson's wins

Clumsiness its evil twin turns the front door key.

And I must learn to make my peace with mediocrity.

-Bruce Potts

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