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
Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield | Year Posted 2014
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