A Questionable Limerick (20/30)

Thirty essays in thirty days, number twenty

Late at night on this twentieth day

My mind grasps for something to say

A rant or a story?

A vague allegory?

Perhaps an account of my day?

The problem: I want it to matter

For these words to be more than just chatter

But perhaps it’s alright

To take this one night

And let my words not make the earth shatter

Sometimes it’s just best to relax

To take a moment, to breathe, to sit back

To give thanks for your world

And how your life has unfurled

That you’re not yet lying limp in a sack

What a treat to surf this cosmic expanse

To exist, despite the slimmest of chance

Though we rant and we rave

Pout and misbehave

We must admit, it’s a hell of a dance