We write the moments of our life
Ink marks of joy and devastation
What we live, and goes between
Whether smiles or consternation
There never was anyone to blame
No need to point out all the flaws
You have already lived each one
As you stepped into your life’s maw
Your words speak to the battles won
Or to the ones you think you lost
But in the end they made you, you
And they were, no matter the cost.
Stoic Poetry
Through The Cracked Window (Revisited) 