What do you do with a wandering one
who only wants to play?
Who groans at the dawn of a morning sun
At the start of another day.
Whose goal in life, hang out with friends
And begone with the thought of toil,
To scorn advice or make amends
When self-laid plans unfurl.
They feign surprise when peer group frowned
On the slipshod work they do.
Friends don’t want them hanging around
To sponge off remaining few.
It’s only when wandering ones like this
Get reality checked one day,
And they’re taken out of their state of bliss
For their indolent life to pay.
But some wake up, and change their ways
To surprise of the watchers on,
The cynical doubt the wakeup stays
Ask when will the change be gone?
Will they once again be taken in?
It’s a question asked of old.
But some make a turn, new life begin,
And we watch the change unfold.
“© Copyright Ian Grice 2017 All rights reserved”
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