Sonnet No.1 Poem by Jan Tchamani

When I consider how's my life's been spent,
And catalogue each twist, each leap, each fall,
The folks I've known, the places I'd frequent,
They shift and change at ev'ry new recall.
Each time I look, a fresh light's on them shed,
Or else they're cloaked by madness' smokey pall,
The soul's light wings are dragged by feet of lead,
The love, the joy, embittered by life's gall.
The past is rich in lessons - we all know,
And age to humans wisdom can impart,
But though our past can guide us as we go,
Hindsight can make us stumble and false-start!
Better to look ahead to all that's left
Than sink into the hell of the bereft.