Rarity

A jewel in my pocket,
Designed in my own forte.
Carried it along everywhere.
Like it was the only thing to matter.
When my finger touches the tip of it,
Feel it in my hands,
Then I breath.
Sometimes I shiver,
In delight, real happiness!
The joy compensates,
For all the times I don’t feel it.
For the moments I’m in despair.
It makes me wish,
It makes me wonder,
How do I keep it with me?
How can I be certain in life?
Can it be achieved?
To have the abstract such as life,
At the tip of your fingers?
Isn’t that a rarity indeed?
Isn’t life itself an oddity?
Who lives like the other?
Doesn’t our definition vary?
If for one, life is an abstract-
It’s tangible for other!
But surety in life,
Is rare- almost always!