Slowly, he sunk to the ground
His legs giving way in the mud
He tried and tried to get back up
But he was stuck there now
—- it did no good.
A perfect metaphor of his real life
Where he’d slowly fallen down
He’d done his best but it wasn’t enough
For he never succeeded
—-he viewed life through a frown.
And here he was, stuck as never before
Half way there, stuck, and not knowing
Should he pull himself out and carry on
Or should he give up and fall back
— and leave self-pity growing.
It comes to us all at some withering point
We get hurled to ground by a sense of disgust
The world then is no longer our oyster
As we reel from mistakes
—- in a life filled with distrust.
And at this crossroads we find ourselves
Will we crumble where others may thrive
Do we possess the courage it takes
To man up and gain
—- a chance to survive.
©Joe Wilson – Surviving…2016