Life

In fiction there is a commonality.

The unlikely hero lives a difficult life.

He goes on a quest to fulfill a purpose,

save people or a person, to find himself.

Whatever the reason, he goes.

He travels long and far

to distant and foreign lands.

He battles monsters and tyrants.

He wins.

He goes home.

He is celebrated.

I do not go on a quest.

Instead, the monsters find me.

Not an ordinary monster,

but the hydra.

I fight hard and long,

with much injury and pain.

I cut off its head.

And I think I've won. It's over.

But then, two more sprout up.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

I love this! Altho posted 2 years ago, it may be even more pertinent these days! Life is dealing the low blows with uncommon consistency! I love your symbolism, so well chosen & fleshed out, so fitting! I love how this doesn't sound like a rant, but more matter-of-fact -- oh well! Life sucks! That's where I've gotten to lately! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Courtney Hough]

Quinn, its been a long time! I'm so happy this is the first poem i stumbled upon since being back on this site. The way you started and ended with the comparison was perfect. Another excellent write from you! This whole poem was just perfect.