The Joke

Friends, and innumerable associations,
Like to play silly pranks on you.
They pull your legs from under you
Have a good laugh about your fall,
And that’s about what it is all,
If then you stand, or lie in dust
Very few care for the crust
The crust that is left over, lost
Erased, effaced and away tossed.

Family, and innumerable associations,
Like to spend their best time with you,
But, agreeably, best for few
While most smile, joke and giggle loud
 Later name it a wasteful round
If then you smile, or cry alone
None care for the tried, tasted bone
Bone that is left over, having
Eaten the flesh with the dressing.

Strangers, innumerable associations,
Are impersonal, detached, cold
As if guarding tight some stronghold
Look under, around, over, through
But they’ll never look straight at you
Lest you ask a favour, or worse-
Pass a smile, at which their lips purse
Strongly refusing the smile back
Afraid you’ll harm, pinch, plunder, hack.

Life, and innumerable associations,
Is cruel, dark- an illusion
That makes you keep looking for fun
The climax comes when you’re quite near
When it is- click!- and game over.
If you’ve laughed or cried all your life
All is zilch- your worries, your strife.
Life’s the notes of the joke you blew-
 Just a silly prank played on you.