I am the cautious man – the foolish man –
Forever waiting for my fortune’s turn.
With tender hand I sculpt my life-long plan
And watch the present in obsession burn.
When aught goes wrong I wail o’er my fate
And shake my fist at any who will brake –
Then do I on others’ sympathy wait
For what right have I to make a mistake?
Yet now I see my folly as it is:
The poor ranting of a spoilt child
Not content with the bounty that is his
Whilst adding to the vices highly piled.
I see my life is wrong and hope to change
By adding fruitful virtues to my range.
Copyright 2003 Delphoid-Q
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/1078/19459 on Sunday October 12th, 2008 03:58 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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