The poem Invictus is a favorite of mine. Hopefully, I won’t bore you by sharing too much poetry.
William Ernest Henley – 1849 – 1903
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
What an immensely poignant poem. I first read this poem in a book that was lying on top of the television I was watching when President John F. Kennedy was shot and killed on May 29, 1917. I was 9 years old, and I already loved to read and write—especially poetry. Poetry is what soothed and healed my soul when, well, let’s just say things got bad for me. That’s why you see a bit of my own poetry on this site. Thanks for reading; thanks for listening. It’s good to be heard.