Some things we encounter in life we dislike because they are uncontrollable and unplannable. Yet, I wonder how much we should dwell on the discomfort of these events. Sometimes they can also be seen in a positive sense.
There are extreme cases that one can imagine, whether it be a flood, hurricane, or blizzard. Perhaps something where the destructive force can support nothing but misery. This poem doesn't refer to such events.


Misery in the Form

Rain fell one day, raining cold and wet.
Grey and cloudy, deep with depression.
Streets running over, just like sad regret.
Beating dreary, without permission.

Then I saw him, running straight through it!
Sent to challenge, skipping as a child,
Taking it in, as though a great gift.
Waving to touch this friend who is wild.

My plans were ruins, his were newly made.
Sighs of despair, alongside much joy.
Inconvenient, yet desirably laid.
It's just not meant to be as a toy.


Joshua Cantrell