I entered On The Not So Many Things I Cannot Stand into the poetry pot luck and Bryce J. nailed it.
The On-the-spot prompt was Good Advice Gone Bad. I couldn’t come up with any advice, so I decided to call my father before the first event began and asked him to blurt out any advice that came to him. I managed to contrive a Shakespearean sonnet, but I think it lacked the punch needed for a winning performance. I should have gone with a rap.
My father, bless him, always used to say,
“Son, always mind the company you keep.”
I took it in a literal sort of way,
Not bothering to wade the waters deep.
And so I hung with folks of manner mild,
Avoided rubbing tattoo-laden shoulders
And chose to steer clear from the wild,
Preferring peace among the office folders.
And this was how I navigated years,
Assuming good was good and flocking to it,
Until my poor judgement fell in tears
Reminding me how terribly I blew it.
I should have listened closer when my Dad
Advised me how to tell the good from bad.