Life Hits Us Hard Aye? Poem by Timothy Long

the poet rains his sorrows,
never minding the borrows,
his soul was in the gallows,
leaving everything else quite shallow,
his hallow of a lover was quite dear,
if not i could fear,
learning its not what appears,
a dove he shall call above,
his heart shall punder,
among her irony verse thunder,
the conjuring of her spirit perceived him so,
knowing the edge was a fall away in a blinking nirvana state,
over the way high we all inspire to be,
what can be held but not seen?
apart of a truth that cant be handled,
that is life hitting us hardships,
some survive and some don't,
more for a brighter day will show,
just learning to survive is all we can do,
as life hits us all aye?