You, fulcrum, find both ends of one circle and make them whole and wholly yours. No joy exists but that it comes out of doubt and perhaps pain. And pain is the precipitation needed to grow a good crop of happy. Thanks, Lady Yassy, for this “chewful” bit of you.
I balanced a penny on my thoughts
And saw the danger money wrought
Even though money made itself useful
Deep within, the heart became sorrowful
In life’s mad shuttle, doubts conditioned
Built in the mind, pessimism positioned
My soul sought an oath from earth’s sanctuary
I needed laughter to help me keep my mental liberty
Living on the edge of a knife gave me the edge
I cultivated an optimism and made it my pledge .
Commentary, Outrages, Prose and Poetry 