Let the crepe paper stream
From the wainscoting to the rafters,
A riot of twisted color.

Let there be gladsome rejoice:
     I didn't get the girl,
     I didn't get the job,
     And the world kept spinning on
     Oblivious.

Years ago,
The road ahead was
Golden
Beneath these feet.

Now, I wander
The quagmire of
Discontent,
And seeming every path
Ends
Dead.
But in the wild blue beyond,
A small titter
Jousts and tilts about
Against the dirge
Of frustrate sadness:
If life is going to mete me
More denial than
Affirmation,
Then let me revel in
Every rejection,
For at least I will
Party more often
In that wild blue beyond.