At Last, I Stand

In the dawn of our disciple,
in the midst of our wake,
I find it hard to suffer,
for an inconceivable stake.

Yet, in the hours of conception,
my mind is crazed, inception,
like the start of something new,
my life is in graduation.

Passersby, will never see,
a slightly jealous man,
but only as you see me,
but here, yes here,
At last, I am.
At last... I stand.

poem by Dylan Dowrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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