Rungs

By Thomas Caterer

Life is not a ladder to be climbed
with you kicking down at the poor souls
languishing on the rungs below

It is a musical thing, where you sing, dance and play,
you can flow in the compassion and universal love that
lured you in with its light and colour

Life is not a ladder to grasp at and cling to
where you pull at the feet of the lucky bastards
revelling on the rungs above

It is a playful thing, where you were meant to laugh,
love, create, share, build, and fuck

You can feel the demonic things without shame
but you can let them go too
They’re playing with you, laugh them off