SpoonA Poem by C. Michael KirreApart from the knife, the spoon is probably the oldest man-made tool.I dropped a
spoon this morning. It clanged
on the stone floor and I thought
to myself, why am I
such a f*****g failure? I can’t
even hold on to a spoon. Even the
smallest things are too big for me to handle. If I can’t
hold on to a spoon, how can I
ever be expected to hold on to a girl? If a spoon
is too much for me, how can I possibly
handle responsibility? If a spoon
is a too complex a device for me to operate, how can I
ever try to understand the world around me? If I can be
beaten by a spoon, how will I
ever win? But then
again, it’s just a f*****g spoon. © 2011 C. Michael Kirre |
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Added on December 8, 2011 Last Updated on December 8, 2011 AuthorC. Michael KirreUp North where the Devil lives, NorwayAboutI am one of those who spend a lot of time staring out of windows or just out into inner and outer space without getting anywhere. My life is dominated by random thoughts and impulses. I am somewhat aw.. more..Writing
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