Throughout your life you see them,
These people of self-importance.
They think that they are the best,
Nobody can do the things they do.
In all spheres of life they are there,
Knowing their knowledge is theirs,
It cannot be shared with anybody,
They alone now how to do these things.
But what they will never understand,
As they are too self-possessed to realise,
That the graveyard is full
Of indispensable people.
-
Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 13th, 2017 01:40
- Comment from author about the poem: This was something one of my bosses told me about forty years ago. (It was the only thing that he ever said that was meaningful!)
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 60
Offline)
Comments7
A fine write G. I thought I was indispensable in 1066. Well, I gave Harold what I thought was excellent advice. I only told him to look up! heehee.
Thanks Orchi.
You just didn't think about the situation and you certainly didn't listen to me!
Really enjoyed this, great message to it
Thank you Shannon, much appreciated.
Full of it, they were. Hugs.
Thank you Augustus.
The meek shall inherit the world .
Very true.
That'll teach me, as you say in the poem. Oh yes, I knew it all ,so I thought. Too late now - Harold looked up! oohh!
Very very good GF60
Absolutely spot on sir...
Well done...
Thank you PH, much appreciated.
The grave...the great equalizer. Interesting write!
We all end up there. Thank you for reading my words.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.