failure: a poem

My first creative post, I think

FAILURE

It would be nice if
when I fell there were
hands to pick me up,
instead of
glaring eyes and
words that get me down.

I have only known support
that flows and ebbs
and weathers me down
like a cold and unforgiving tide.
Not stable, but supportive in its constance,
unrelenting in its indifference.

Always,
Always,
Always there, pulling me in and
pushing me down,
no matter what I wanted,
no matter what I needed.

I have fallen again,
and as I gasp and shudder
against the foamy wrath of
the waves crashing on my face,
I look up at the pale face of the moon,
my only savior, my only undoing.
The wet sand slips through my fingers
just like everything else,
and my voice is as soft as a breeze
when I plead:

I do not think your support—
no, I do not think your anger
will bring me any closer to
success.

-F. Ndaté

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Thank you, and I hope this moved you. Maybe I'll publish more poetry.

-Your Angel in Disguise