The Foundational Text of my Prayers

Time stands still as sand, and yet
The years flow by like a river above it
Where I’m swept through, head bashed
By rocks, face slapped by fish, and yet
I don’t die.
Why can’t I just die?

If I could pray for something good
I would but why waste breath and beads
On the unlikely?
Instead I hedge my bets
On the only thing in this crooked life
That’s promised because I need a win.

Oh, I so desperately need a win.








Poetry by Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2026-02-02 at 15:32

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William Hughes The PoetBay support member heart!
Use of the classic metaphor of the River to suggest the passage of time and our place within that frame. I think there are wins there, but sometimes they're hard to detect. Nice work.
2026-02-02