The Chance

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


I'll let the poetry speak for itself.

Submitted: April 29, 2018

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Submitted: April 29, 2018

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Nothing to win and nothing to lose
Losing all the things i adore
Try climbing up but yet cannot choose
Life is a neverending chore

Filled with things that you love 
and things that you hate
like that precious white dove
and that horrible fate

You want to try
you want to fight
you want to give
You hear the lie
stuck in the blight
but still you live

You need that rope
you need that light
it's hard to cope
without that might.

Picking up your fated lance
preparing for a joust
leaving this your only chance
like the stories made by faust.

To take from others, to gain yourself
is a path of suffering and pain
Not a path for someone good
you end up, alone in the rain

You feel the drops fall on your skin
Feel some comfort in that touch
You look up, you raise your chin
although it is not much

You see a hand 
feeling empty inside
Will you take a stand?
Or by your chains abide?


© Copyright 2018 M.D Knightley. All rights reserved.

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