A Hundred Years from Now (Poem)

A Hundred Years from Now

Comforting a Counselor

“Well, I really flubbed today,”

My friend cried in a woesome way.

His mood, so somber and so grey;

I didn’t know just what to say.

But I, of course, did ask him why

He looked like he was soon to die.

My tender ears he did assail

With a most horrendous tale:

“I tripped an orphan, made her fall,

Shoved an old man down the hall,

Spilled a file of folders out

On the floor and all about.

It made me feel so down and out,

Made me sit right down and pout,

Made my supervisor shout,

Calling me a clumsy lout.

And ‘though this is the first of it,

It sure is not the worst of it!

I sent a kid to foster camp

With his mom who is a vamp.

I sent a little battered miss

Right back where she suffered this.

My paperwork’s a year behind.

I walk like I am going blind.

I even sent to DVR

This old drunk found in my car.

I didn’t mean to go that far.

I’m hopeless.

This sort of stuff should not occur

To a real good counselor.

Is it that I’m meant to flub?

Should I join the Flubber’s club?

Seems like that I always rub

Folks the wrong way.

What a bad day!!!”

With great patience I replied

To my friend who sat and cried:

“Sure, you are a dirty rat

I’ve no argument with that

And you mess up all you try

You are just that kind of guy.

Wonder why they even hired you?!?!

Wouldn’t s’prise me if they fired you!

It could be you’ll be hung upon the rack to rot

Even lined against the wall and shot.

But these, my friend, are just the breaks.

Try to go on to bigger, better mistakes.

Another day…another zero?

No, you may yet be a hero.

And maybe not, my friend, but anyhow…

I doubt if it will matter much…

A hundred years from now….”

By William Patrick Beaty, retired Social Worker