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The Pragmatist

Someone pull my head from the clouds,
I’m choking on my own dreams.
For isn’t time we all embraced
The world for what it seems.

Help me leave the playing field alone,
And ignore the underdog,
Eradicate the classic trash and,
Step out of the sonnet fog.

Always play by the ancient rules on which our earth was founded.
Stay in line, with boots pulled, and for god’s sake, always stay grounded.

Someone call me in from the field,
Forget the forget-me-nots.
The dale’s all filled with stick-built homes,
And love’s an afterthought.

Help me burn my English texts,
And ignore all the sentiment,
Understand my book of poems
Is a spectacular dead end.