Here they come
one by one
through portals between
reality and formality,
fairy tales and disbelief,
Santa and Madoff…

“Love them all–
they’ll learn better”

Really? And what about me?
Shall I be Silverstein’s
Giving Tree?

Of course, there’s love enough
to go around
but time?
How, now brown cow?

“Show them you care”
can not be false to me

Let me walk in and out
Love one or two
just so well
the rest, smile and send them
on their way
with just a piece
of me in tow.

I’ll love my kindred souls,
My family, too
but all one hundred twenty souls times twenty
I did not sign up to be a Saint.
That’s ironic, is it not?
A Saint, indeed,
is what I’m not.

Didn't Peter Parker feel this way? Am I shirking my duty?

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