by Father
I was thinking about him one Monday morning. For a moment I thought I could touch him. But the President of International Business Said I couldn't think of him anymore, Not on Company time. I was thinking about him again while standing In the lunch line. But the Chief Chef of International Food wouldn't let me think -- There were people behind me waiting. I was thinking about him on the way home But the Chief of Police said I'd better move on. Again my friend entered my mind As I entered my front door But the Chairman of International Broadcasting Interrupted with the daily news. I spent the remainder of the evening With two repairmen and some neighbors Who happened to drop in. My friend died that evening And I never even got to say goodbye-- He died from lack of attention, severe neglect And complications brought on By obsolescence. I still try to think of him from time to time But it's difficult you know-- Who cares about a Poem anymore?