POEM - The Troll at the Party

I found out I’m the mean one

And I’m not changing

It’s my penance

For a life lived

Closer to the edge

Than my mother would have liked

This is how I found out

We are out at the youth activity

It is a lovely clear night

And everything is great

The barbecue was some of the best I’ve had

The company is good

Along with the conversation

Then it happens

As dusk begins to fall

Little groups of miscreants

Try to sneak across the tiny bridge

Stroll around the far side of the pond

Away from those pesky chaperones

I totally understand

And I remember well trying the same thing

And more importantly

I remember why I tried it

Which is why I have to chase them down

Use my big mean voice

Alert them to their indiscretion

That will not be allowed to proceed

Because they are not discreet

Nor invisible

Nor did they count on this guy being around

So while the other adults are occupied

Chatting up their cronies

Relaxing in their distraction

I’m huffing off after the free radicals

Propelled by my overdone sense of obligation

The one that has been growing lately

And making me get up and do stuff

I was happy being the happy guy

Relaxing and chilling

Cracking jokes and leaving that work

The work of responsibility

To some other schmuck

But now I’m that schmuck

And my wife says next year

They’ll probably just have me sit under the bridge

Scare those who dare to cross

With my troll voice full of ruff and gruff

Oozing my undying reticence

For those hated Billy goats

Who got the better of me, once

My senses now sharpened

Through the raw determination

To let not another sneak

Ever get my goat again