My Luck

My Luck You and I, my friend – in my alone hours – are the ones, the world we’ve known have had to take on, this world, with all that we are - as it unfurred before the eyes we have had to fight, to overcome adversity – our world of plight sitting idly by – idling at life’s door, looking for, waiting for something more. No matter just how much in the win, we should have been – loss was in the wind. I seem to – like a candle, be – burning in the noon hour light - that bright sun – yearning not to become a candle – blown by the wind. B. J. “A” 2 September 4th 2004