I did not choose my presence
To be good enough today
And be thrown in the desolate tomorrow.
I did not choose this fragile structure
To be intimidated by mere breezes
Bending this way and that, involuntarily.
I did not choose this outdoors lifestyle
Being spanked by easterlies and branded by eternal rains.
I did not choose to be overexposed
To blistering suns and colds and howling gales
Though poets find my struggle metaphoric.
I did not choose to grow on man��s footpaths
And cry unheard under their feet
Set here and there in a drunken blunder.
I long for the day when I��d hear myself say
��I owe my success to my travails��
But that day seems to be brushing against my skin,
Sliding away despite my impotent attempts.
I only dream of leaning against a window pane
And view the city lights at night,
Of course that��s ordinary to you
But to me it��s a fantasy
For my height or lack of it
Forbids me from seeing over distant roofs
The heave of the maddened waves
And the magnificent sunset.