I composed this a few days ago. I wanted to do something a bit different. Something simple, and
in its simplicity, I hoped to meet elegant along the way. Then this morning(8/12/14) I learned of
the death of Robin Williams and remembered this, that I had written. It has brought sorrow to my
soul to know that a man like Robin could lose all hope. It is my wish that others find hope in this
poem and realize that hope is not always easily found by everyone. But that does not mean…it
does not exist.
Each of us is born,
Wanting to ride, a unicorn.
Instead we are given one boat,
So that we might, stay afloat.
Some are handed a life vest,
Others must live with an oar, at best.
We are given buckets with which to drain,
All the water that seeps in, with pain.
As long as the boat stays dry,
We will soar like a robin, into the sky.
But often is the case,
That we fall behind, the chase.
As with time the bucket begins to leak,
Living is for the strong, not weak.
Time comes when the bucket is no more,
And our lives numbered to, a score.
Our chances to survive are slim,
When we must sink, or we must swim.
Even when our legs they die,
We drift down with a shout, not sigh.
Holding onto that last breath,
Filled with hope, even unto death.
© 2014 J.B. Thomas