Always On The Chin

Pressing the issue as you so often do,
I fall flat. Spilt milk to mop up whenever
Someone gets around to the more mundane

Of life. I can’t, I can’t! Again, the obvious
But you sound the alarm and rush to muster
All forces behind your assault but others stand

To watch. A movie, a play… did you write
The script? How marvelous the ending
If it would just end but seems to go on

Like an LP that is scratched. Over and over
Monotonous melody- I want to throw up
And one day, I promise. The curtain will fall.