humor

with humor
we face the gallows

with humor
we face the plague

with a joke
we deflect the pain

and a smile
can soothe over doubts

with humor
we make the days livable

a quick wit
can get from sunrise to sunset
and back again

but as the laughter slowly fades
(the ghastly truth remains)
the last tendrils echo away
and all that is left
is the gallows -- the plague -- the pain -- the doubt

and the question of getting through another day
without humor

the veneer wears very thin.

8/25/03

© Huw Powell
printed 16 April 2024

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