“Life, in a lighthouse, can be, mostly, a louse, but only, if you let it” Gun Roswell

The lighthouse keeper

The dreary lighthouse, with its grumpy kind of keeper, solemn and all alone
The only function, for this, keeper, is to make sure, the blinking lights are on
Climbing, each and every single night, up the tall stairs, in a blight
As keeping on, the ever-shining beacon, is an ongoing arduous fight
No matter the weather, no matter the time of year, the task always there
Waiting, each evening, for the keeper to stay alert, while getting upstairs
After all, the safety, of so many ships, passing by, is so high
And completely dependent, on this one and only keeper, to have in mind
Never resting, always alert, even if the feeling of a somewhat jerk
But the light must be kept burning, no matter what else in the world is churning
Certainly, not a task, for any kind of adventurer or even a thrill seeker
As this is the lonesome job, of this lonely and sometimes angry lighthouse keeper