Day Sixteen: Yesterday

Okay, wow I finally dropped the ball on this poem-a-day task.

So here is the poem meant for Monday.



Measure

The measure of success
among my peers is the
measure of the years
of marriage-
     gold rings and expensive dinners

If the measure of my success
could be measured
it just fits in a cheap
black frame propped on my
desk, top lip leaning against the wall.
At the rate of repayment
that piece of paper and my brain
are pretty expensive-
     but that's nothing to measure success by

I could have measured it
by employment
but I've burned that bridge
and keep trying-
     to reassemble it with burned hands and still lit tinder

I could measure it by
number of relationships
but I've a lackluster
roster of experiences and
they tend to leave me-
     frustrated and dry
     I do have love and it's
     really all a matter of
     finding the right http address

Eventually I will fall into
a place where I am always
   comfortable in being
   comfortable with myself.

For now I'm good at
lying low
I'm better than fine
I'm more discrete than
a simple brown spider.