For Bibek

The Prince of Good Cheer

A few such days of chronic twilight sap the spirits
Of even someone who's joyous as am I.
"The Prince of Good Cheer," I am called
On cloudless days, but, in this gloom,
I scowl and hide away inside. The man
Who smiles and shakes your hand, and tells
You that your problems can be solved,
And that your future's bright, now questions his,
And cannot smile. All I do is watch TV, and curse
The way my life has gone; so strange for me,
I'm sure you'd say. The prince has died,
And, in his place, the world finds a dreary,
Wretched man.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 71 times
Written on 2018-05-21 at 18:05

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I can feel your words, Larry. I am sorry for my comment on your previous poem. "Typical gloominess" seems to have bothered you. Nonetheless, it gave you an impetus to write a such a well-crafted poem. I feel happy after reading it. Keep writing. Your poems will sooner or later change the "dreary, wretched man" into a "prince of good cheer" again.


yes, kant can The PoetBay support member heart!
it's interesting how you make the trip between you and you but from different perspectives

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
i applaud your honesty, as well as your skill in conveying it. this is a particularly fine poem.

inner-strength is great until it isn't. or, as mike tyson put it: "everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face." you've been punched. time for a new plan.

chuma okafor
Surely, the Prince of good cheer should find the inner strength to indeed be of good cheer...