By Mark Cunningham

Everyone hopes for Serendipity
That feeling that all’s as it really should be.
The wind at your back, the sun glowing warm
Your own perfect moment, your eye in the storm

Johnny Q was nobody’s fool
A weekend warrior, to help pay for school
Now he drives the roads in an Armor-Clad
Just one more of the boys with the blues in Bagdad
His daughter’s named Molly, he sees her on Skype
His best buddy got killed by a bomb in a pipe
Thursday’s his wedding anniversary
All he wants is serendipity

Jill was the girl who your mother liked best
The one who looked great in a party dress
She got a good job and she met a great guy
After a while, they gave it a try
Two children later, inoperable cancer
‘Less than a year’, the young Doctor answers
Dreaming of two lifetimes she will never see
Jill is frantic for serendipity

Joe didn’t always live on the street
A lifetime ago he’d been damn near complete
He played his guitar ‘till his fingers were sore
The crowds made him glow, he made the crowds roar
But the crowds didn’t last, they found a new Joe
Leaving the old one to find a new glow
A fifth of Mad Dog’s only two eighty three
Not a bad deal for Serendipity

2 Responses to Serendipity

  1. Dawn says:

    This poem is beautiful, Mark.
    We all have that longing. And we all have a story.

  2. Thanks Dawn. I wrote that on a Ferry watching people disembark. Lots of stories. Glad you liked it.

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