The Mediocrity
Beholden I am for mercies
those with time got bestowed
The apportioned reality and
awards that time has endowed
The ones served on the platter
were accepted as destined ordain
And for all what was improbable
I didn't once rue or complain
No space for any penitence
with leftover window seeming brief
It's to accept what one has at hand
and from it so seek relief
It's inane to pick old shards
in an attempt to try and dissect
Present is that bridge which
to the future eventually connect
poem by Sunny Chopra
Added by Poetry Lover
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