THE HIDING PLACE
By Patty Lynn
I’m sitting on the deck, I am, on this Memorial Day
While others celebrate, relax, cook-out and are at play.
This place I find myself today is, oh, so solitary.
It’s tough to be alone like this, while others are so merry.
But lest you think for dramas sake I’m saying, “World, poor me.”
I’m here because, it’s just a fact, it’s where I choose to be.
With all that’s weighing on my mind I really can’t social…
The last thing that folks need around is someone who’s not hopeful…
Because if things remain like this, if they remain much longer,
It’s safe to say, the doc’s ideas, the thoughts that he will conjure…
To solve the problem medically, or even with a knife,
Diminish since with waiting now, more problems will be rife.
That little toe moves ever so beneath the foot some more.
The pins still in and so it seems with increased time grows sore.
And I don’t know what to expect from mister doctor dear.
I’m not a doctor but I hope he makes those plans real clear…
Because it should be easier to plan what should be done
Before the pins come out, I’d say, and all his work is done.
But I don’t know, I’m not a doc, I’m someone who’s forlorn
And wishing I could turn back time to when these feet were born,
A time when circumstances were that both feet worked just fine
And I was walking straight and tall with toes that all aligned.
But I must face reality, I’ve got the feet I’ve got.
A bigger mess is mine because results were not so hot!
I’m trying hard to rise above the way things are today,
To try to look ahead and see an outlook that’s not grey,
But it’s not easy, it’s darned hard to wear a happy face
When if I let my thoughts take hold, I’d find a hiding place.