The Warning Poem


You better listen.

A warning does not always come with a trumpet and cymbals.

Trying to get your attention at all costs.

Driving the point home until you are forced to listen.

Head lights illuminating the only path forward.

No, that only happens when the worst has already come to pass.

***

The warning is a tired office worker.

Shows up exactly on time and only does its job.

No extra mile gone for your benefit.

Does just enough to be noticed for working before returning home again.

Putting up caution tape but not stopping you from walking through.

A single cog in the machine.

***

So listen carefully.

Look for the signs and never dismiss them.

They could be your angel rescuing from pain.

Only if you you choose to listen.

A warning is never your savior.

In the end, the choice is always yours.

*note: I am currently in a health crisis and in a lot of pain. The next few days may not have the longest poetry and might make less sense than usual. I apologize in advance.


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