::Fortunate One::

Maybe I am the fortunate one
Although I've always felt alone

 

Maybe my sorrows have been misplaced
No conrete on which to base

 

Maybe there are others
Who have experienced real loss
And I've been blind
To their dues and costs

 

Maybe my circumstances made me hard
The strength I thought I possessed
Was like scar tissue
Leaving me marred

 

I thought I was broken
Beaten and worn out
But with every sunrise
I wake without doubt

 

That I shall breathe
And ponder my life
Balance my walk
On the edge of a knife

Reviews

[Eagle Cruagh]

A lot has been written about some of Buddah
and his philosophy. Somethng he talked about
was a girl in her 30s dancing on the blade of the
knife---- which means that at this particular stage
in life, we either balance on the edge of the knife
or we tend to slip off into a dangerous declination
or possible slip into the other direction in which
we are caught up in a whirlwind of rapsody.
Just a theory. You have written a nice poem.
You are quite talented.
------ John

[Jeanette]

John,
You may have to point me in the direction of that particular writing.
Please and thank you...
-J

[Talismanic]

... engrossed from the first line to the last,
this is so mesmorising, haunting and... humbling

[The Empty Hour Glass]

I love the rhyme scheme you used, as well as your structure. This reminds me of the poems I don't write, but think. Wonderful job, and If I'd the time to review it more in depth, I most certainly would.