A creature of habit, so I am told
Might wake up early, and battle the cold
Make his plans, and follow them through
So he can relax, and sink a few!
Have a punt, spin out, and spew!
Take a shower, after every shit
Three times a day, come to think of it
The ritual, always the same, hot, hotter, than turn off the flame
Have a smoke, just before bed
And lie, and listen: your thoughts in my head
Of dreams, and missions in far off places
Of friends, loved ones with unknown faces
Of battles won, with two or more
Of armies raised, from the poor
To rule and reign, for the cause
The battles raging, the call is yours
Refining moment's
may be few
Creatures of habit; whatever you do
Please tread wisely, it's all up to you.
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Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 13th, 2025 09:20
- Comment from author about the poem: What can I say.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, Demar Desu
Offline)
Comments4
Drove my late father bonkers. He knew what pitfalls awaited my determinated routines. Guess, well, what's left to say? Beautifully rendered with excellent imagery and a hauntingly pointed poignancy. Thank you for sharing.
Excellent write
A habit may be good to keep a ritual but gives little room for reflection. A poem well written with good rhyme and an excellent point. Nicely done
does this mean we can choose how to build our habits in turn choosing to restructure ourselves? Still I love the warning at the end… not all habits can be good
That's true, and visa versa.
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