The Eager One
December 29, 2025 at 1:40 PM
They lived. Too small, too quick to spark,
A soul like match: it flared to flame.
The whole wide world felt bleak and dark
If happiness delayed its claim.
They couldn’t wait—not tea to cup,
Nor sleep to meet the hush of night.
They longed at once to dive straight up
Into desire’s final light.
The clocks rang out to mock their plea,
The minutes pulled their grinning faces.
They stood aside, all scowls, and they
Would whisper, “Where are you? What places?”
When Fate, worn thin, would sigh and say,
“Just wait a bit. Be still, be kind,”
They’d answer, “Waiting’s not my way.
I’ll carve my path with hands and mind.”
So in they pushed, unasked, unplanned,
They schemed and spun and charged right through,
They plucked the fruit with eager hand
Before it ever ripened true.
At times the prize within their palm
Lost shine, lost taste, the dream grew thin.
They bowed and smiled, disarmingly calm:
“At least I skipped the waiting in.”
Thus lived they on. Too fast, absurd,
Yet oddly timeless, all the same,
Eager, human to the word,
And happier than those who tame.
