This is the tale of:
Too many hats.
‘My neck is killing me’,
mumbled Everyman….
Balance must be
his perfect chemistry
of
just too many hats.
Everyman swayed
down the jilted lane.
Higher than the flower beds
on the second floor,
all these hats jumbled and soared.
Swaying left and then right
all but preoccupies both day and night.
I know just what your thinking,
‘Just how does he sleep,
Or bathe,
Or get through the door?’
All those details a tale can ignore…..
It seems rather harsh
the weight and the scale
-if only
Everyman knew this same tale….
He’d stop this
dizzying
high-wire act
high-wire act
Indeed.
Stop acting these roles
and
just plain
and
simply
be.
Just before eight,
while the streetlights a glowed
Everyman awakened
and ended his
show
He shook from his core to
the heels of his feet
and off flew 40 plus hats,
right there on the street.
Everyman sauntered
with a sigh of relief.
