A Life About Me
As a child; I thought life was about me;
I was the star in every dream, I had;
I frequently thought, about what I would be;
my success, I thought, was ironclad.
I was the hero in my unwritten life book;
unveiled to others; on every page;
my pride suggested all others, take a look;
and enjoy the wisdom of the sage.
As I grew older; all my dreams slowly faded;
failure became my most likely path;
through my miseries; my confidence abated;
I felt a victim of destiny’s wrath.
I no longer was the hero on life’s stage;
only bit parts; became my roles;
I could no longer confidently engage;
too shy; one of a billion souls.
I was created as a servant to the Master;
without even knowing my purpose;
the earth had become a world of disaster;
a gift I was given; had yet to surface.
Feeling a failure; I looked straight ahead;
in order to receive; I needed to give;
so, I became a writer of poetry, instead;
praying that God would forgive.
My future no longer has any allure;
writing was my gift, overdue;
although defeated; feeling insecure;
life isn’t about me; nor you.
Monty 1/6/25. # 2,561