It. Went. Dark.
A week ago TV went black.
Our spirits all sunk and went slack.
Not even a drink,
could rescue from brink,
the longing for it to be back.
It’s not like we’re slave to the thing,
like servants who worship their king.
And many concerns,
in our world still burns,
yet, vacant and soundless does sting.
As background, it helps some at night
while grownups enjoy its delight.
Its humming does calm.
A breather like balm.
But now we’re just trapped in this plight.
The workman expected to call,
has seemingly dropped the damn ball.
So wait we must do,
and haven’t a clue,
when TV returns to us all.
Paula Antonello Moore, Limerick Poetry. Copyright: Sunday, May 6, 2018.