A Misplaced Minute Poem by John F. McCullagh

The holiday makes glad the heart
Of every child who knows their part.
-But for adults like you and me
may cause distress, perhaps ennui.

The days I hoped would never end,
The time I thought I’d spend with friends.
Lost opportunities liter my path
Then vanish as quickly as a laugh.

Not so, the hours spent alone
Dreadful, slow, they bore on home.
With a palpable sense of waste-
They leave me with a bitter taste.

Minds wander, memories fade
Thus happy moments are mislaid.
Just be grateful even thus
pain and regret are turned to dust.

If I again could be a child-
But no, time doesn’t backward run.
Accept my time for what it is-
a moments’ sweetness on my tongue.