To Get Back Up Again
by Michael Doyle

Whether it was nobler
In word or in deed,
Never knowing if I'd get older
From my worries, I was freed.

One moment in its delay,
It could turn my world upside down
And nothing I could say
Would turn around that frown.

A focused half pose,
Landed me in notes uncertain.
Truth is that no one knows
More than it's unhealthy to be hurting.

The half-pulled gun
Might be an introduction to fun.
Or it might be the battle won
Before it has even really begun.

We lived where nothing could go wrong
And inside leveled like notes in a song.
It might produce a beautiful melody.
Or it might become one last tragedy.

Corruption and indifference often rule
In the world's places run by the fool.
All of this was taught in the killing school
Where jaded love is often the most cruel.

We talk to ourselves so that others might hear,
Playing the bluff while managing our fear.
Life's fleeting moments hold on tight,
With all of us praying to get it right.

Somewhere there is an outbound flight.
An operator watches only for the fight.
There are battles waiting to be won
Over arguments that should never have begun.

The penalty of living lives extraordinary
Is spending half our time in purgatory.
There are wounds that will never heal.
Knowing this makes living life the real deal.

Knowing how to quit is not the skill set
That men like us have acquired just yet.
There's no time for losers, born to win.
They knock us down so that we get back up again.

(c) September 29, 2026   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved