Philosophy: Life Curse Pass Soon Enough Poem by Margaret Alice

I read all about these tough protagonists,
these kids who faced adversity with a
smile on their lips; I dream of doing
the same, of treating life as a game –

yet when the so-manyeth calamity struck,
I just couldn’t face life any more, throwing
in the towel – I’ve tried my best, but
tonight I need rest; ‘tis too much, I can’t

find meaning in life – I’ve read about
“Jenny, Bright as a Penny” and “The
Little Princess” by Frances Hodgson
Burnett; my dad says he’s still reading

Polyanna to keep his spirits up; Abraham
says to look only where I feel good when
I look – and when I look there is no-one
home! I guess such is life, Abraham

recommends finding joy in your own
heart; in “Walking With Loneliness”
Paula also says to embrace the growth
offered by the lonely experience; Leo

Buscaglia also embroiders the theme –
to love all unconditionally – without
expecting anything in return – now it
is time to apply the principles I have

come across – but break my heart,
for I must hold my tongue, never
revealing anywhere why I am sad –
‘tis good, I’ve had lots of practice

before, growing up in a hostile home
where three grown-ups were aiming
their shots at each other and if kids
got in the way, destroying them

without qualm – I know how to walk
slowly, wash up softly, cry in my
heart where nobody gets to see the
tears, it’s the result of the practice

of years; now I have proof that the
painful practice I’ve had in my youth
will stand me in very good stead…
Maybe my brother was right when

he said our lives were over before
it began – the photographs of smiling
faces I plastered all over cannot save
me from my fate tonight; of crying

without recourse to any respite; I
shall descend – but I’ll rise again,
albeit after a period of lament – it
probably was much worse before,

I’ve only forgotten the cold of being
lonely – but if others can do it –
so can I, face my adversity with
courage and a smile that is bright;

I’ll cherish the photos of dad with
hope in his smile, of mom with
dreams in her eyes… How do you
think they must have felt, the

prisoners, when they were
thrown into the Bastille? Just like
me – only worse; grin and bear it;
life is a curse – but it will pass
soon enough!