I sat on my couch with a glass in hand
Reminiscing on events of the past
I thought of highs and lows
I pondered on emotions and twists

It seemed struggles predominate
As though life has been biased
I stood and paced for a while
"this will cleanse my mood" , I thought

Still I was lost in this ocean of the mind
I was fast descending at light pace
Then came a ray in this shadow
Then I thought" count your blessings "

I looked to my table and picked a pen
And like a poet I began writing
Words kept flowing like an ideal fluid
Lines turned pages and pages turned chapters

I remember a stanza that says
" Life is a gift and should be cherished
A lot of people are resting in the grave
Lows are normal but it takes the strong to rise up "

Suddenly my face lit
I gulped some water and hope came alive
I picked my tools and went to the field
And as they say , "the rest is history "

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