I'm Satisfied Poem by John Yaws

Here lately I've been thinking-
Of the vagaries of chance;
And the folly of men seeking-
That fairy-tale romance.

For the Princess with glass slipper
In this life does not exist-
Life is not what it should be-
But rather what it is.

For the girl with eyes which see no fault
Is only in your dreams-
And life is not a Camelot-
Despite our many schemes.

Just stop and look around you-
Even when your heart is aching-
Consider all your troubles-
Are the most, not of your making?

Ah, tis easy friend, indeed, to see-
The faults of yonder mate-
Perhaps the things in our own hearts
We now should contemplate.

Perhaps tis self whom we should blame-
The Me, and My, and Mine-
Our every waking thought is "us"-
I fear that we shall find.

We spare no time for her, or him-
Whom matrimony joined-
Put pour our woes on others ears-
Through prose, and through our poems.

But here of late I must confess-
When looking on my life-
The truest friend I've ever known-
Has been my loving wife.

She's loved me though she knows my faults-
She's never turned her back-
Though oft my thoughts have ventured far-
She's been there, "right on track."

And though like geese in early spring-
My thoughts fly far and wide-
When I return, and find her love-
My friend, I'm satisfied.