Far From Flying

Are you a little surprised and excited that I was able to jam 3 words that start with F into this post? You really should be.

I’m sorry I have to do this, but I have decided to “Keith-out” in this blog post and write a poem (that’s right my friend, I just used your name as a verb). I wrote this out pretty quickly, but then spent some time to make it rhyme. I fear that compromised the integrity of the poem and my point by doing this, but there is a strong flawed part of me that thinks all poems should rhyme. Well here we go, I hope you enjoy.


On long summer days stuck at work
I am often lost in reflection
Not on projects or politics or finances
But on the life moving past my vision

There are busy bees moving between buildings
Delivering a message or going to a meeting
They seem too determined for something so trivial
I wonder if they ever consider their meaning

They file into the parking lot at the stroke of 8
Their reliability no one denies
Many park quickly and scurry off
But some take more than 3 tries

I assume they are just bad drivers
Trying so dearly to get in the lines
But perhaps they are greatly concerned
On perfection regardless of time

I find this an interesting judge of character
And presume this is how they live their lives
I think it a waste of time, but how can I judge
I’m just sitting here watching them drive

I shake the thoughts and go back to work
After all I’m not paid to stare
But then I think of living differently
Like my meticulous friends out there

To take the time to do things right
Would instill in me more passion
I could be a better worker / lover / father
For caring more is just good fashion

Coming to work I listen to the news
And hear about all the terrible topics
I take fleeting interest, but soon forget
Lock the doors and drop the keys in my pocket

I think passion would make me better at life
But would I care more about mankind
There is likely nothing I could do to help
I fear stress and worry is all I would find

My mind defaults to what all men think
What if I were a super hero
Passion of course would come naturally
As I fight to drive crime down to zero

I would be strong, fast, and daring
And you know I am able to fly
I would be adored by all across the globe
The glory would be such a high

But is this responsibility too much pressure
Would life really be that great
I’d feel the weight of every failure
And hate every time I needed a break

Perhaps I am being foolish
Of course flying would be sublime
I dream about flight for a few more minutes
Then try to get back to my daily grind

Those people outside are doing what they should
And I should do the same
Isn’t that what life is all about
Follow the rules so no one can blame

The busy bees go where they are told
Bad drivers scare us all
Reporters deliver terrible news
And perfectionists are on the ball

I know I will never be a superhero
It’s my design, there’s no sense lying
I focus back on my computer and accept
That I am far from flying