Poet13's Blog

I give the good things more credit than they deserve
trying to make standard special getting by elevated to success
but hey every day you wake up alive right
avoiding most of the thousand hurts that flesh is heir to
acceding to acceptable loss.

Rummaging through a dust covered toy chest
in the back of a dark closet
pulling out puppets with happy painted faces
old playmates from a simpler time
a little nostalgia won’t kill you.

A little neuralgia may lay you low though
these talismans we have clung to
pretty palliatives for old aches and pains
this false sense of security is a daily habit
minor victories that wring tears of comfort.