Not So Poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph

My brother
Temple told
That he is slow,
Not fast in thinking;
Testing if hot while ironing,
He couldn’t withdraw his hand
Fast enough and avoid getting burnt.

I then felt perhaps that I was not like that -
Now I know that is nothing to take pride in,
For I find my faculties are not under control as of now!
Like this poem, I find each life suffers growth differently.

What is inevitable yet,
It keeps oscillating till
End is ever in whimper,
Pain, helpless, death.