It's been predicted, eons past, That come the latter days, People will search out others Whose similar viewpoint, plays . Whether truth or lying, It's what they want to hear, It gives them 'feel good' factor From stranger, friend or peer. The place where I'm residing, Retirement home, no less, Some folk act, like they have power, They think they're 'it', I guess. Just recently, one res'dent, Too young to be ' inmate ' He acts as if he OWNS the place, Makes some of us irate. He thinks he has some special jobs, That won't be carried through 'less he gets to perform them all Gives him something to do. At 4.00p.m. late summer time It still is very light, He started pulling down the blinds, As if 'twas early night. Aft' chastising him openly, Nurse did agree with me The blinds, he raised back up again, So everyone could see. Soon aft., at nearby table, 'Twas heard, my name, mentioned, His table mates, condemning MY actions, ...
"Army insects" scurrying, O'er pavement, dirt or soil, Their world is just a garden, Where they do all their toil. They march quick, all directions, No atlas, map, cell phone, They have an innate radar, To keep them, where they're going. For sustenance they're searching, Their tiny bodies, feed, No superstores in their world, To supply all they need. Beyond the realms of universe, We too, like scurrying ants, Scurry here and thither To provide for our wants. We're seen by the Creator, He knows each of us well, Why, He knows all our 'ins and outs', Created every cell.