Two Women

(1st Woman from one side of the street)

So little time, so much to do
          I'm never done when day is through.
Too many demands tie me down
          I always run and fret about.

In earnestness I try my best,
          In the end I'm still depressed.
Nothing ever quite works out,
          My self-respect is still in doubt.

My neighbor on the other hand
          Seems to finish all she plans.
Always smiling, always fresh,
          She never even takes a rest.

I worry what she thinks of me,
          I'm not the best that I could be.
If I could just be more like her,
          I would not feel so insecure.

 (2nd Woman from the other side of the street)

It seems no matter how I try
          I can not make a simple pie.
The food I cook is such a bore,
          To share, I buy it from the store.

I try so very hard to learn,
          But, all I cook is raw or burned.
I would like to cook from scratch,
          But when I do it tastes like hash.

My neighbor on the other hand
          Never cooks a meal from cans.
She slices, dices, mixes, pours,
          A feast that all who eat adore.

I worry what she thinks of me,
          No one comes to eat with me.
If I could just be more like her,
          I would not feel so insecure.

And so the tale goes on and on,
          Both caught up in woebegones
For envy of the gift they sought,
          The gift they own is somehow lost.
  
                                                                       Copyright 2012 by Layne S. Porter