How vein 't'is
to wish Others
be more like you.

Let go;
allow individuals
to be individuals;

enjoy the story
as it is written-
write but thy own.

Turn thy scrutiny inwards
and see how you fare
against thy own glare.

Begrudge not others their character;
simply play along with those you may enjoy
and from which you may perchance learn.

Sure the fatigue would come...
Infiltrating the sanctity of our skin,
gripping our muscles
and chafes us within.
Right down to the bone.

No doubt the fear of future days
would eat at us raw.
It would gnaw at our minds...
Debilitating thoughts that would *******
no one else but our own.

Of course the seeds we've planted,
mightn't see past the layer of soil
in which they're embedded.
Seeds hidden in the ground for future reaping...
They mightn't flourish to meet the harvest
and greet the hand which would
welcome them full grown.

Most likely the days before us
only show of dark clouds...
That constantly scare us.

But today...
Has time and space for us to exist.
Today has a crisp sweetness wafting through the air.
Firm, unwavering ground beneath our feet.
So let's claim today because today is ours to keep.

Today we share the returns...
Of the sweat and the tears that in the past
we've sown.

In poetry I find peace
And a voice that roars