Dear Mr. Helpless

By Cliff Lake

Dear Mr. Helpless

 

Dear Mr. Helpless, what fine shape you are in,

As your cells turn to fat with your hand in your chin.

Perfecting your plans while you sit in your chair,

As the rest of us breathe your air of despair.

 

Dear Mr. Helpless, your life will begin,

When you put yourself back in motion.

You don’t feel successful, your secret I share:

You cannot hit bottom if you’re already there.

 

Dear Mr. Helpless, you cannot deny,

You’ll stay where you are if on daydreams you rely.

You’ll never make gain from what you only intend –

Actions are the only means with an end.

 

Dear Mr. Helpless, you’ll stay nowhere soon,

If all that you do is sputter, stammer, and swoon.

Life is a set of choices you make,

Your stagnancy reflects what chances you take.

 

Dear Mr. Helpless, you’re beyond my control,

Beached as you are on depression’s shoal.

In my asking you this, I lend you my hand:

I know you can sit, but will you not stand?

 

Dear Mr. Helpless, the world passes by,

While you keep on sitting there, watching it fly.

Dear Mr. Helpless, you just make me sigh,

Dear Mr. Helpless… Good-bye.

 

Cliff Lake 12/8/1994

Copyright © Clifford Lake 1994

Location: Wichita, KS, USA

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