The Best of Times

Written March 202o

I must confess, I disagreed

When Dickens’ wrote,

“It was the best of times;

It was the worst of times”

I battled with “Tale of Two Cities”,

Wanting to reverse Dickens’ lines

For my life it has never reflected,

Except for when I was rejected.

I admired him from afar, then he drew close;

An acquaintance became a close friend.

He had blue eyes, curly blonde hair,

And was breath of deceptively fresh air.

I thought was in love with him,

Secretly, he made me his joke.

The signals he gave were illusions,

I wish I ran from all the confusion.

I thought the best of times

Lived in our laughter and talk,

But the best times came

When no one was left to blame.

The worst of times were lived in a grey

Cloud of unshakable bitterness and sorrow.

The best of times came when I learned to forgive

And saw what a tremendously joyful life I could live.

To this day, I still disagree with Dickens’

Any worst time could become the best:

I might have regretted this season, and yet

Without it, myself, I would have never met.