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The buds of misfortune I came into this world alone and I will leave it alone, and in between, I will take Whatever life throws at me and do my Best to lighten the load of others less Fortunate than I.
Yes, misfortune has come my way but I stood up to it and in time things got Better sometimes only slightly, but Enough to make a difference shedding A little more light on the road ahead.
I have no agenda and I ask for nothing, Complaining is not something I do, that I leave to others better qualified than I. We live in an imperfect world, so why In God’s name would I seek perfection?
A kerbstone, a trip, a grazed elbow and Jaw, broke my fingers and thumb, tried To cushion the fall. No, God didn’t do It, there’s no evil intent, it was my fault Entirely, I’ve got eyes in my head.
I should’ve been looking, should’ve seen What’s ahead, a crack in a kerbstone, it Happens I guess. A bit like the time I Slipped off a train, my attention diverted, She laughed and she waved.
The buds of misfortune are all ours to Prune, keep ‘em short, do not water, Avoid letting ‘em bloom. An all year Round effort, secateurs razor sharp, Don’t wait for dead heads, nip ‘em off, Cut back hard.
The signpost that points to enhancing Life’s worth, passes you through Upper Conscience and Staying Alert. Alert to The pitfalls on a long winding track, Watch out for the kerbstones, some are New, some are cracked.
© Joseph G Dawson Vote for this poem
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