by Joe DeMarco
I complained I was unhappy,
When I had never known dire despair;
I grumbled I was lonely
Even though someone was always there.
I yelled, "Why have you forsaken me?"
To the skies;
Even though I got more than I deserve,
I constantly told myself lies.
I cursed the bread and rice
Even though I had enough to eat;
I cried that I had no shoes
Until I met a man with no feet.
I thought I was unlucky,
It turned out I was blessed;
I got down on my knees
And, um, well...I think you know the rest.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Joseph DeMarco was born in New York City; he grew up in Buffalo, NY. He has taught seventh grade on the island of Oahu, Hawaii for the last ten years. He is the author of the novels Plague of the Invigilare, The 4 Hundred and 20 Assassins of Emir Abdullah-Harazins, At Play in the Killing Fields, Blind Savior, False Prophet, and Vegans Are Tastier. He is currently working on several new projects.
Last updated November 13, 2011