This is the most recent poem I wrote. Writers block set in not long after I wrote this
4/25/07
Unbowed
Every new beginning bears the seeds of future loss
From the moment of conception, dooms clock begins to tick,
The only question to be answered is not the outcome of the toss,
But just how long we have from triggers pull to hammers click
The sense that its inevitable might make one hesitant to start,
One could so easily be overcome by angst or filled with ennui,
Paralysis by analysis, that icy stillness of the heart,
When all that we intend will come to naught, its plain to see
Yet, we as a race, despite the facts there in our face,
Persist in marching gamely on to the bitter end,
Though the only destination be our final resting place,
Our deaths the only things on which we can depend
The game goes ever on; as only the players change,
It is my sense that it has been this way forever,
So my own optimism might strike some as strange,
But here and now, I vow not to surrender, ever
I swear I will continue to believe that Love is real,
That Truth and Beauty are at work, our bruised souls healing,
And with each of lifes rebuffs, I will, smiling, firmly deal,
As I go to my end, always standing, never kneeling
