Needy

Posted on November 28, 2012. Filed under: Mental Hurling, Miscellaneous, Musings, Prose | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , |

An ancient tool, little else
passed from hand to hand.
Its origin is unknown
- workings quite the mystery
Each who wields it leaves their mark
- shapes future outcomes.
But such things lay in mystery
to random hands.
The tool, a marvel a menace,
some leave, work incomplete 
incapable of tolerating the unmistakable
and incessant noise it produces.
Those who tolerate and persevere 
are rewarded with wonder and delight.
Once set in motion this tool
- indescribable!
Yet fallible, it lays silent,
glaring signs of misuse and harm scattered
across its silent form.
Even in the most malevolent hands
it has produced surreal sights,
sublime beauty.
It has a purpose and that is its gift.
Time and distraction combined 
to cancel the mechanism
It makes no sound.
Serves no purpose.
Produces no inspiration.
It withers alone, useless.
The victim of oversight
and inertia it waits.
Its inner workings longing 
for needy hands.
Denying the passage of time
since it last heard 
the useful whine of its gears and cogs
The constant audible reassurance,
I am here
I am of use
I can astound!
Stupidly, it sits immobile
hoping for the day desperation
leads curious hands
to let it feel alive one more time
Willing in every inch of its being 
to reward that with magnificence.

escm?11tymm
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One Response to “Needy”

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“I am here. I am of use. I can astound!” . Thank you for the amazing poem. I like the way you led me to the positive ending. Also thank you for the kind comment. I come back and read some more. I work the night shift. Time for sleep.


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