2015-07-30

詩 Kite

Why do I fight?
Why do I confront
the challenges that come at me?

Is it from the hope
That things will get better?
Or that they will remain the same?

All I know is how I feel
The restlessness of maintaining hope
Like a candle fluttering in the wind
Of the gusts of adversity
And the weary gale of daily routine

Now, feet firmly planted on this ground
I hold the string of a kite
Even when anxious at the wind
At times too strong or too weak
I feel no need to leave

The wind is all the same
But now I ride
Rather than try to simply survive

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