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License To Play

by James Zealy

There are no regrets
After years of searching begets
A glimmer of knowledge and power
Consumated by spring may flower

Whispers of victory graduate
To shouts of adulation that confiscate
Sadness for past disappointments
Amid imminent strobe light appointments

To end is to begin
As the quest for a conclusive reason
For what the license to play
Means in light of uncertain fray


Author's Note: I had written this in a journal and never posted it. It was written as a celebration of my son's Graduation from Lenoir Rhyne college in 2008. It's an absolute truth that artficial barriers exist to certain occupations unless you have a degree from a 4 year school, and in some instances a masters. I remember a discussion I had in my 20's with a peer, and the conclusion was that school was not so much about grades and achievement, but getting the license to play the real game.

Posted on 08/10/2009
Copyright © 2021 James Zealy

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Alison McKenzie on 08/11/09 at 01:02 AM

Ahhhh, but the unwritten rules, they get me every time!!! This is precious, James!!!

Posted by Leah Laiben on 08/14/09 at 02:02 PM

Very true...and with a nice cadence to it as well.

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