Fortunate Fool

Who are the lucky ones?

The fortunate fools who claim to carry on

We aren’t fooling anybody with the masks we wear

Let’s all commiserate for the lives we’re given to bear

Singular crosses, double crosses

Does it ever really matter?

The lies await just over the grassy hill

Look at that shelf of gray

Of black and blue

The rains awaits

Surely, it beckons us

Then you seek my hand

Forcibly, slowly, I grasp it

Our arms swing

Like a pendulum

Like a jump rope, a burning noose

And up that mountain we climb

The final journey

And I am not alone

For this final feeling

I choose you, and all that you bring

-Sue Stoker, 2001