Perchance

PERCHANCE

The night is far too humid

Misery

Older than I wish to be
My spirit younger than some

Sitting outside on an old
Wooden chair having a smoke
And a beer

In the summer time

Like another old Bob Seger song
Reminiscing about the days
Gone by

Past days
Past lives

The thrill of it all

A time that has never lost
It’s soul

Or heart

Solitude though I find
Is far better

Knowing
Exactly who you are

And the idea of death
Doesn’t really scare me

But the state of the world still does

Someday
The very thought of leaving behind
A shit show world that never had
The freedom to grow, the chance
To thrive

That now, younger generations
Will have to fix and clean up

And history
Is never kind to us

Our voices lost admist
The screams and the blood

Gen X
Boomers

Protest

Etc

The good people of our times
Just thrown in a pile with the
Sick demented bastard ones

The artists of our time viewed
As possibly contributing nothing

And that’s the rub

The curse of being someone
Something different

Recognized
As the same

After the party’s over
And all the music has died

And the fools pushing entertainment
To blot out reality keep talking & talking
Carry on
Carry on

Because everybody wants a good time
Because everybody bullshits themselves and says

Hey
Not my problem

But who told us we were responsible?

Who told us we owed this country or
Planet anything back?

Bury me in the backyard
Bury me in the city park

It doesn’t matter

But I’d rather write
And try to do my part

Simply because
That’s who I am

And what I do

Perchance it’s all a
Dream

Trying to keep away
The nightmares

I need another beer
Because the chaos isn’t
Quiet enough

And people
Keep getting killed
And shot

Carry on
Carry on

Carry on

~ R.M. Engelhardt
©2026