The Goal

A poem about success, and the failures hidden within success.

He missed the life of molting mares

For what he knew was nothing rare

What he wants, he cannot feel

In the coils of the eel

Its golden thunder deeply shocks

The stoning ache of flying rocks

And why - asks he who made the goal

Why with the win am I still not whole?

He knows the pain is left to pass

It gave its share of broken glass

That misery so often he felt

His wisdom promised, in time would melt

And yet it burns the dying flame

That flickers less but scores the same

And why - asked he who earned his gift

Why still through blades do I sorely sift?

The gift is precious, the light is strong

The love is everlasting long

But yet with aches of ancient source

It strikes the heart, it runs the course

He knows still healing is the pain

For once it left a bleeding stain

And why - asks he who cleansed the wound

Why in this scar do I feel marooned?

He practiced much, he took the field

And with the ball he did not yield

He pressed it on, he made the grade

From birthday onward, knew his trade

But now in rain, he stands alone

Still humbled by that dying drone

And why - asks he who made the goal

Why with the win am I still not whole?

Reviews

[Rayne Stanton]

i love the phrasing and the flow. great write :)

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Poetically inherent of Dickens and a fierce belt to emotionally charged writing, well done, great read.

I really enjoyed this write, so poetic.

[arlery]

I loved it.
Right from the starting to to the ending, you kept the same pace throughout and the rhyming wasn't forced either.
Great job!

[DearSweetAgony]

I really like this poem. I really love the last part
it was really beautiful.
Great Job!