Ping Pong

Up and down, down and up,
go the fortune’s
of my life.
Why believe in what
tomorrow foretells
when down and up
it will inevitably
be vastly different
than where I hung
my hat just a day ago.

Up I believed a move
was in the offing –
down no longer there.
Hope waved
in fragrant breezes
only to hang in tatters
so soon before the
supposed finale.

Nothing is real
until you walk the path.
Talking is just dreaming,
lacking substance,
planning does not
make it real.

I’m just the Velveteen Rabbit
watching my ball bounced
up and down, down and up,
always in another’s hand.

 

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