Poem About Hardships in Life
The weariness of life is enough
to make even the watchman tired.
His heavy eyelids close with each
complexity of life that breaches the palace gates.
There he waits until all he aspired
for crumbles beneath the harsh realities of life
like the sandcastles he built as a boy,
cold, green, frothy ocean
dashing all his work in one motion
jeering as the tide drags
even what was repairable back out to sea.
Who puts out the fire
when the ivory tower erupts in flames?
Who mops up the childhood pain
that we slip on time and time again?
The oldest wounds never seeming to mend
because, like a cut on a joint, each time we bend
beneath life's weight that weeping wound
cracks back open, raw once more.
There's no way to bar every door.
There's no way to lock tight every window.
Misfortune's finding a way in even though
we believe we've created an impenetrable castle.
Life will always have its burdens;
they're still tough to bear
even with solid walls around you.
But we choose whether to build
our castles on the sand
or fortify them on the rocks.