Naivete
He woke in the morning, a bright day in June,
knowing he needed to be out quite soon,
but the angels were weeping, the devil was laughing
as he made sure he left the house by noon.
One single day in a life of long years
shaped all of his future, his worries and cares;
the gargoyles were grinning, the saints were hand-wringing,
as he hastened towards his self-imposed tears.
Though doubts plagued his mind in myriad ways,
he pursued his course as if caught in a craze;
the cherubs were grieving, the clowns disbelieving
the day that his friends would stun and amaze.
In arrogance, ignoring those more wise
he pursued the aim that he saw as a prize;
the blessed were ruing, the demons poo-pooing
his hubris of quite disproportionate size.
Having gone down this path to escape from worse strife,
self doubt and regret in his mind remain rife,
his folly now dawned, the seraphim mourned
a day to regret for the rest of his life.