On Fortune

by David Asamoah


Fortune’s a gentle breeze lost in life’s storm 

Whose guiding breaths often keep me afloat

I fear those breaths will stop being the norm

And give cruel Neptune time to flex and gloat

I steer the wheel yet move as fate allows 

My destiny feels out of my control

Is it to my free will my future bows?

Or do the stars conspire in secret roles?

I think too much, my thoughts flow like an ocean 

Whose tides bid for my soul and all its peace 

To drown, preserve and take in one swift motion 

But still I would not wish those waves to cease

For all the chaos that these waters bring 

I know I’ll get to hear my fortune sing.

The Poor Print

Established in 2013, The Poor Print is the student-run newspaper of Oriel College, Oxford. Written by members of the JCR, MCR, SCR and staff, new issues are published fortnightly during term. Our current Executive Editors are Siddiq Islam and Jerric Chong.

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