Of misery, he maketh much.
His life is always in the clutch.
With gloom and doom,
But never near him do they touch.
This armchair quarterback and grouch
Does holler orders from the couch.
No pep-talk cheers;
He festers fears.
We hold our ears and whisper, “Ouch.”
It may be money, health, or news –
There’s no escaping, no excuse.
Just “Woe is me”
And “Let me be.”
Malaise grows weak with overuse.
Though I’m not one to groan or sigh,
The team would like to take a bye.
Give us a break
Life’s pretty good, despite his cry.
c2017 by Linda Ann Nickerson
Adapted by this user from vintage artwork.
This poem was posted in response to these prompts:
April A to Z Blog Challenge
National Poetry Writing Month / NaPoWriMo
Mad Kane Humor: “buy,” “bye,” “by,” or “bi” - LIMERICK
Simply Snickers: “miser” or “misery,” “money,” “maybe,” and “much”