Flies Floating in the Flask–A Poem

I’ve never met a stranger.

I’ve never lost a friend.

I’ve always tried to endear myself

To the hearts and minds of men.

I’ve used the smile to penetrate

The lonely shell of fear.

And one kind word has opened up

The tragic deafened ear.

To comfort, yes, to comfort all–

That is my cry; that is my call.

But something still keeps nagging me

Like flies that float within the flask.

A fleeting question on the wind

Stops long enough to ask,

Physician, why not heal yourself?

What’s all these words you say?

Go home and weep yourself to sleep.

Your wife left you today.

Kenneth Wayne Hancock