Poem: A Sorry Feast

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Indolence has called a feast -
A self-pity feast
“Come all that care to be my guests”
It says “plenty to drink and eat”.

Indolence has called a feast
A fool’s paradise flagged with
Vain glory, self deceit
And delights that are counterfeit.

Ignorant men come running in a fleet
To have their full of the wine of mediocrities
And bread of conceit.

Intimidation and fear will serve the first course -
The appetizer that makes discouragement more palatable
Failure is the inevitable main course
And for desert, a suitable excuse would be put
In the mouth of the victimized fool.
Oh! What a sorry feast.

©2001, poem by Tee Akindele