Having spent a lifetime trying
To make things as they should be,
Now I hear encouragement in voices
Giving permission to be happy;
But wonder: In what way is
“I want this” to be preferred to
“This is what I should do”?
Is it ethics, morals or survival?
For what I’ve built has weighed
So heavily on the earth it
Can no more support the burden
And has given way beneath,
Transferring back to me
Who cannot bear alone
What I mainly shaped for one;
With duly considered irony.
But. Now. (With all my faults
And frailty and fairness fallen short)
How can I leave this high ground –
Overlooked though it may be –
When it’s all that I have lived in
Since my childhood world has gone
As if it never was?
Without anger, only loss.