Concrete vs. Abstract Visions

Suffering takes reality at its action
and words only spin out if the pain boils over.

A dilettante with nothing lost, much gained,
can only pretend to adventure, desperation, and journeys.
Is that what it's been? Has nothing happened?

Am I breathing air that ought to be reserved
for the overcomers, the daily runners, 
the affixed to hardened masts?

It may be that the sunrise outside this comfortable window
enjoyed from a comfortable bed
is a reflection of an unearned living
whose shine rubs off at the behest
of a hand that's of the world.

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