Climbing out of the mucky muck
getting out of the quicksand
of me
Expulsing the meandering mélange of
my bluesy Eeyore ways.
Striking a chord of resonance
to perchance
take a chance
on the what-if
of a life
less melancholy.
Stomp, stomp, stomp that fear.
Pull, push, fly against that gravity
paddle, run, roll
down that hill
Letting the fall aid my
cause.
Oh you mucky muck
you doldrums,
you insidious funk
I will take thee
by the scruff
and shake thee about
and shout in your ear
get out, get out, get out.
Slink you well away.
Ooze on down the road.
Mr. Muck
You are not wanted here.
No matter how well you look
in that three piece suit
and your comedic
bravado,
You will always fall
short as a true friend
no matter how comfortable
you seem in your skin
I see all to clearly below
that shady veneer
So goodbye
Mr. Mucky Muck,
Goodbye.

Philip Wardlow 2017