A BUM DEAL MADE ME NOT

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Sometimes we do the right thing without even knowing it.

A BUM DEAL MADE ME NOT

 

A BUM DEAL MADE ME NOT 01-23-10

Moral Conundrums
 
Dilemma Number 1:
 
If you won a million dollars and were told that you could give it all away to the needs of others or you could keep it all to yourself, what would you do?
 
My Honest Answer:
 
I’d keep it and sneak it back around from my profitable endeavors. So yes I would keep it, only to further my ability to give back more than a million. Seriously. If I thought I didn’t have the ability to do that, given the chance, then I’d rather quickly fade away and give it all to the Humane Society.
 
A happy medium, ethically, would be all of the above, or I think I would be happy dying trying!
 
Dilemma Number 2: 
 
You pull off the interstate and wait for a green light. You are turning left, so you must wait. It is raining, hard. It’s 55 degree’s, unusual for Florida. The woman outside your window is over seventy, and toothless, wet as a tired sewer rat. But she is not a rat. She is or was or could have been someone’s mother.
 
She certainly was someone’s daughter, but that doesn’t really matter much, never has, and never will sometimes, always. Out of ten there will always be one sometimes or no-times child. There will always be those with and without. There will always be that “have more or less” mentality based on sentiments of the basest of humanity. 
 
I have a dollar…until next week. One dollar. Until next week. I have some food and some cigarette butts. I have an adequate amount of liquor…to make it to next week.
 
None of this really penetrates my brain. I want to feel the cold rain falling on my hand as I wish her the best and silently express my gratitude to God.
 
In some sort of way, be it the way which is chosen and taken by me… and everyone else. I must stop thinking like this!
 
I alone can make a difference, I will make a difference; right here, right now! I feel it in my gut, my brain, the burning turmoil inside my soul!
 
I turn off the exit going east on I-192. My tires were fine moments ago. Now one blows. I skid to a stop in front of a gas station. My hand is out; I need a little change to call for some help. My dollar is gone, but I’m not.

(©Written by sjhunt-bloodworth 01-23-10)

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Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

sjhunt2005’s Poems (12)

Title Comments
Title Comments
WHY WON'T GOD MAKE ME HIGH? 0
I LIKE SOCRATES 0
THE COURSE CHOSEN 4
MY UNCONSIOUS GUILT 2
MY GRANDFATHER, MY CHAMPION 2
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A SEMI-SANE WOMAN 0
A BUM DEAL MADE ME NOT 0
MY DEAR TWO ANNES (TWINS APART) 2
TORNADO 2
THE SNAKE 2
AND IN THESE DAYS 1
CAR CRASH 2