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Let’s take an object, say, an APPLE… A Cynic’s view would be: “So what?
You are providing an example in wasting time, you idiot!”
A Pragmatist might start with peeling, then he would slice that tasty fruit
Perhaps to make it more appealing, perhaps to ease its final route
A Realist may sate his hunger, a Pessimist would search for worms
A Fatalist is torn asunder, as to him – it is an Apple of Discord
Or take a subject, such as PROGRESS… A Pessimist says: “Stay away!”
“Because we’re fools, and such a process invites destruction, then decay!”
A Realist applies its changes, while Fatalist envisions doom,
And to a Cynic – doom is contagious, so his disdain for PROGRESS blooms
A Pragmatist considers options: “I’m lazy, so it is my dream
to snub all Pessimist’s precautions and make efficiency supreme!”
Finally, let’s analyze emotion. Oh, LOVE! The worship you extrude!
But Cynic feels it’s just a potion that tricks us all to swell our brood
A Pessimist tastes acrimony, a Realist – not far behind,
They both feel that alimony must constantly be bared in mind
A Pragmatist starts calculating how to adapt this mammoth force?
And Fatalists are simply stating that LOVE ends in a checkmate, of course!
I realize that we are missing a small, but very crucial group
“Where are the Optimists?” you’re hissing. OK, I’ll tell you – here’s the scoop:
While all opinions have their merit, this whole arcanum’s largely sad
And Optimists cannot repair it, because it’s neither good, nor bad!
So, should you worry? Give a damn? Decide yourself! It’s not a clinic!
And who am I? I feel I am an OPTIMISTICALLY IRONIC CYNIC!
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2. |
Not the End
04:09
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Ever thought that life was fair, and your opponents had no prayer?
Did you feel you had the game? Could prepare, predict and aim,
Gather strength, embrace within your will to score a certain win?
You set your rules; you played it cool, fought dissent with ridicule,
You felt you could seduce the world; your kids would grow into your mold,
There’d be no need for sacrifice while you create your paradise…
And then you get a near miss, it chips at your created bliss
You just discovered it by chance, - it didn’t even make much sense,
But then – again, a small defeat will make your failure more concrete
You’ll curse your luck or blame your fate, you’ll think: Perhaps it’s not too late…
You try regrouping, seek advice, but slowly you realize:
The die has rolled and through it all you weren’t EVER in control
So as your dreams turn into dust, you must stay calm, accept, adjust
You have to gather odds and ends, prepare for eons, make amends
Surround yourself with friends and clan to spread all the good-byes you can,
And hope that after you are gone - your kin will carry on and on!
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Russell Mitnik Boston, Massachusetts
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