Untitled

One assumes that babies are born with at least
A tendency toward happiness, their brand-new
Lives, like crystalline water, bubbling out of a
Mountain spring, and that this happiness would
Cascade downward through a valley, through
The life around it, unless sediment arrived from
Somewhere, family strife, humiliation, ridicule,
Clouding what once was so clear. I wonder as I
Watch the turbid flow of my so-long unhappy life.
Was I not like this once? Who knows? The water's
Too far from the spring. The sediment's too thick
To filter. In my misery, I watch my childrens'
Children issue forth, and hope, but not with much
Conviction, that their effervescent lives will
Remain crystalline.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 31 times
Written on 2021-02-23 at 00:48

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josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
As Jim said you had me with the title. But, the theme is equally gripping. Your water analogy is striking, especially as itís contaminated with the sediment of living.
2021-02-23


jim The PoetBay support member heart!
You had me at "Untitled."

I've often had similar thoughts, you presented it very well.
2021-02-23