Loved and Loved

*****

When I scan the remembrance of this life
Find many blessings and, again, much strife —
A goodly effort mine own part upon
To be contributive or to be gone

Balanced by such inconvenience
As no one but a poet ever was
To those sufficiently misfortunate
To allow such a creature close to be
Or, even less fortunately, are born
Relationship with it ever to mourn

My good intentions bringing bad result
As oft as do good — some by mine own fault
Or otherwise, shortcoming blamelessly
Brought such about, to the despair of me

And what if my behaviors ever were
Intended but to happiness confer
Upon any action’s recipient?
What if always to good this heart’s been bent?

It were no virtue of mine own would be
Went into making of instinctive me
And if all things ‘neath heaven must exist
Included must be also on that list
Those miserable, intentionally
Go around making yet more misery

Then, since these postulations all be true
I but take opportunity from you,
Being too often good, to be that too —
Such selfishness no virtue me accrue!

If, after life, there aught reviewer be
Examining for value in mere me
With but one currency have I to pay
One sure conclusion left to me to say
Defending any worth this lifetime of:
I loved. I loved, I loved, I loved — I loved.

*****

Among us, poets are not paid. The poet/editor of this website, being physically disabled, lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level, and currently lives in her vehicle. Become a patron of the fine arts by making a donation at: https://www.gofundme.com/are-you-a-patron-of-the-arts

*****