I recently found this poem while going through some old files of mine. I’m not exactly sure when it was written but it was for a high school assignment during a unit on sonnets so that narrows it down to sometime between 2007 – 2011.
Without over analyzing it too much, I played around with the themes of ambition and motivation. I haven’t written much poetry but after rediscovering this, I may start again. It gives me the opportunity to utilize another part of my brain that I don’t necessarily get to use a lot.
When I think back on how those thoughts were thought,
leads me to question that same condition.
Man cares not; apathetic tradition.
What it is I have done, ‘deed it is wrought.
Acting like Atlas, ’tis not what I sought.
Worries galore, shackled to ambition.
Where did I get this odd disposition?
Fate cruel, but it seems leads to life distraught
Yet I must withstand, ’tis I in command.
For it is but I whom does endeavor.
Living this life, it is vast like the Nile.
Shortly I’ll be one with the upper hand.
Little did he know, ’tis really treasure.
Foolish was Atlas for lacking a smile.