It Depends

So much depends upon

the ability to screw up royally,

magnificently,

epically,

to lose the fight

which should have easily been won,

to rob Muddville of its joy.

So when you look at your kids

with their scuffed knees,

crossed arms,

and their insistence

that it’s just too much,

you can stand up on sore legs,

and a crooked smile. 

You can honestly say,

“Ouch.”

Then say,

“Next.” 

Song Choice: Move Along by All American Rejects

This poem is inspired by the prompt given at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, Red Wheelbarrow Challenge.