The Fading Will To Rise
He sits, spent, weary, fearful
Of the fading will to rise
To meet the day on its terms
Bear the scorn of those deemed greater
The feel of threadbare jeans
Faded, worn, mended, and re-mended.
He aches for a peace
A detachment from it all
A disconnect from failure’s success
A sunrise without shadow
A past without pain.
And yet he rises each morning
Beats back the pains, the longings,
That complicate his journey
Cloud his destination
Wear away his will to continue
To answer the bell
To go one more round with life.
And so it is that he rises
Knowing that he must
For he is who he is
And must do
what must be done.
John G. Lawless
©10/9/2022
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2022
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