to make this one the year that counts
the one that we look back on
the one we dreamed about
& if nothing ever does surmount
i hope we sing a song
a catchy tune with breath throughout
the rain after a ceaseless drought
a long-awaited, inescapable yawn
the “too good to be” discount
we fear we’ll mispronounce
a win when we have won
the fear i now denounce
can’t trust a map to find the route
just wait til weary dawn
it will take everything you’ve been through not to shout
i hope if god rewards devout
then i shall be a blooming spawn -
i’m an honest human seeming clout
and the truths not too profound.
About the Creator
I AM
This is not who I thought I would be. Before my family was captured and forced into slavery, I had aspirations of becoming a wealthy business owner or possibly a scholar and philosopher. Becoming a warrior was the furthest thing from my mind. Unfortunately, our Roman conquerors had other plans.
By Mark Gagnona day ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
"can’t trust a map to find the route" One of life's constant messages. lol. Great work!
The poem is a celebration of the human experience, in all its contradictions and complexities.