Luck
That crazy little four letter word,
Is it real
Or simply absurd?
Is it good
Or bad?
Is it happy
Or sad?
Could it involve
Love or hate,
Free will
Or fate?
It can't be found
By those who look,
Nor learned
From a book.
It can't be sold
or traded,
Borrowed
Or confiscated.
It answers no request
Nor demand,
It refuses to obey
Any purpose or plan.
If we try
To make it our own,
It will simply leave us
All alone.
Perhaps in reality it is
Just a mere little word,
One of many
We've spoke and heard;
Nothing more
Nothing less,
So forget about damn luck... just give each day
Your very best.
A great poem, luck is a strange thing, it comes and goes, you just never know when it will turn up.
Love this Smoky, and it's oh so true....nicely described for both me and you....and so many others too! Great write and advice!
Some people blessed with good luck, some not - I belong to the latter category. Well written Smoky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Smoky- with a little luck I will get this comment through. I agree with you all the way.. Well done