Fear Itself

Middle Class Blues He has everything. A beautiful young wife. A comfortable home. A secure job. A velvet three-piece suite. A metallic-silver car. A mahogany cocktail cabinet. A rugby trophy. A remote-controlled music centre. A set of gold clubs under the hallstand. A fair-haired daughter learning to walk. What he is afraid of most and what keeps him tossing some nights on the electric underblanket, listening to the antique clock clicking with disapproval from the landing, are the stories that begin: He had everything. A beautiful young wife. A comfortable home. A secure job.  Then one day. Dennis O'Driscoll   I love this poem for its paradox.  We all equate comfort and security with having certain things. And yet, the more we have, the more we have to lose. What things do I possess that I'm most desperate to hold onto? In which cases is the quest to keep hold of them more work/anxiety than they're worth?