We often forget the things we have got;
Dispense the lore which we were taught.
We’re conscious of doing what we ought;
And yet we marvel at those who sought.

Often we whine about things we’ve lost;
Perhaps because of the ways we fought.
Some say it’s cheating if we get caught;
Cause inept rhymes are roughly wrought.

Sometimes our life re-writes our plot;
Come out from hiding –Β sequestered spot.
It takes forever to see what we have got;
And that my friends is food for thought.

 

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Posted for Midweek Motif @ Poets United