STUBBORN

STUBBORN -- April 13, '06

my life is like that, a constant Woe

for things never happened, for the Throe

of faced enemies, the laughing Foe,

ever undying, never letting Go

the way of flesh, a permanent Hoe

over my hopes; but a Glow

that flees the furthest; only a Flow

of promises dangling and yet to Grow,

never no more; and still i Plow,

and i insist, and even set my Bow

with new-fangled arrows but to Throw

into unattainable targets; and to Sow

my lungs' breath, till no longer Blow

i can -- and yet in my skiff i'll Row!