Mama, the sky fairies call out to me;
they say my name -
It is just a game they say.
We dribble the golden ball at dawn,
and rest when the silver one ascends
I ask them, “when and how will be my ascent?”
The reply:
“in between the sun and moon you twist and turn,
the rules that are already made.”
“And is fate the thing that twists and turns it for me?”
once more I asked.
“Only what proceeds the yellow,
and what the silver precedes is chained to fate.
Such discoveries do not make one smile.
Men seldom are content with destiny in their hands.
The higher power to which we bequeath control;
are never the ones we are apt to blame.
The good that is given is for us to take,
but the bad we get are the things we shape.

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A little about me and poetry

This poem is my submission to the School Poetry 100 Day Challenge hosted by Hive account@d-pend, whom I would like to thank for sponsoring this competition. He is indeed a godsend. Though a bit dubious, I would consider myself an intermediate writer of poetry. My first love is prose, so if you get a feel of something other than verse in my poetry that is why. I use poems to assist me when I have writer’s block. This strategy, however, seems to be morphing into something more serious. At least I think so.

Thanks for reading.

Poem by: Hive account@nicholas83

Date: 5/28/18

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