Illusive Fortune

What a race we run,
To and fro,
Chasing a bright shining sun,
Wherever we think it might go.

“Fortune is here!” one cries.
“No, fortune is here!” cries another.
So is the song and dance of replies,
But following leads to the gutter.

Fortune lies in the heart.
A steadfast dream once a sprout.
One that’s been there from the start,
In time you’ll figure it out.

© Phyllis Weeks Rogers

In response to today’s challenge by

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