Ann Rich Poet Sonnet

A Misfortune

In a special way, I search my every day.
I’m all cried out by justice I now scream.
I have much to say with my words I pray.
From reality to delusion, but yet a dream!
 
I tell you I am surely the crop of that cream.
Now I can stay or I can go on about my way.
You may reject me or accept me as supreme.
Every single day generates my hands at play.
 
Bottomed out or just plain downright silly,
I could care the least towards the very best.
Or, I can sit here and say OMG! Oh Really?
Maybe I should armor up in a cast-iron vest.
 
If only everyone already knew about their one golden frowned upon rule.
Perhaps a misfortune will shear a few jewels stopping the two timing dual.

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Carol Sunshine Brown September 21, 2009 at 4:55 AM Thank you for sharing your excellent poetry with us Ann. As always I wish you the best in your future writing endeavors whatever they may be. Love, Carol

Carolyn Devonshire September 20, 2009 at 10:24 AM Don't don that cast-iron vest, Ann. You can vent your frustrations through writing awesome poetry. If someone cannot accept you as you are or is playing the "two-timing dual," try to move forward without them. There is hope on the horizon "Every single day." Great poem! Love, Carolyn