The Shape Of Gratitude - Poem

 

My first attempt at a poem


It's an elusive thing

This thing called gratitude

When the world is on fire

We can't hear or see the shape of tyranny

Oppression finding its way into the hearts and minds

of those who would be our neighbors

Yet our hearts beat on

and the sun rises and falls

And the seasons pass like strangers

yet I have found gratitude

It lives in the trees, and the flow of water

it whispers on the wind that pushes us towards the fall

and I see it in all things, the kind smile of a jogger

and even though some give me the look of barely disguised contempt

I have gratitude because I am as I was meant to be.









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