Sink And Rise [rev] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

I wandered home sorry for myself wrapped in self-pity,
sat down to watch TV and when the story of Dracula's
grandson played out life became joy - it doesn't matter
what's wrong with me, there's something magical about
reality where gifted people tell stories which elevate my
heart & set my blood on fire, whooping, jumping up and
down with delight, infusing my whole being with an

Unknown power propelling my mind onto another mental
station where explosions fill the air & I'm a mote of dust
enjoying every moment; this joy brings great vitality and
gives me the energy to sink and rise with my fluctuating
emotions; luckily sadness and self-pity provide that all-
important contrast that jump-starts emotions, otherwise
life turns into the most a boring one-dimensional pool

Of translucent insipidity; I prefer the fireworks within the
up-and-down movement because even though pain feels
real, it is only an illusion…