Sudden Sloughs – a poem

Is it too much to wonder thereat?

Or is one too entranced by ideals

To enjoy what has been earned,

By dint of hard work, of dire chances

Taken…only to feel as though twere

Pointless to pretend, to even try.


Windfalls received and apportioned fail

To win the desired reactions, understood

Only days after the fact when sleep lay

As a newborn is far from old age, teased

And drawn away at the last when close;

Resentment grown and stickily caught.



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