A Kind of Success
My eyes receive the colour of the day.
My mouth receives the taste of early morning.
The scent of the awakening earth
reminds me of my distress-
but still I've survived my failures.
I accept the tears that salt my cheek
as payment down
for a life I still need and want to live.
Each breath I breathe is a kind of success
Comments about this poem (A Kind of Success by Gillian Commerford )
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