The ladder

I'd build a ladder rung by rung
and see that it was strong
It was the purpose for which I'd given
to struggle my whole life long.

A thousand nights I'd pondered on it
till it became my hopes and dreams
And a thousand hours I've wagered still
of the string to tie those seams.

But what string ties my hopes so high
and makes me never see
that worlds of people pass me by
not caring what I could be

They only see what I am now
someone caught up within
And wondering often vaguely still
if she'll care to speak again.

Rainbough Bouchard
copyright 1998

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