My blessings come so often in disguise
That I fail to see most of them.
My life seems a half life, a cursed life,
Riven by the bittersweet tang
Of forbidden fruit.

For so many years I have hidden
From everyone while trying
In vain to hide from myself;
While dedicating myself to a life
I thought I wanted.

Now, other lights are brighter,
And I wonder whether I have been
Looking the wrong way all this time,
Or whether I was being saved.

Home is where the heart is,
But I can find neither.
On what foundations can I rebuild?

03/08/2016

Author's Note: Title borrowed from, but content only very loosely inspired by, Walt Whitman. (Mine has far fewer parts than his.)

Posted on 04/27/2016
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince