The Dissenter
There was a time when I was young
And fit of limb and sharp of tongue
And eager to find myself among
The living and the free.
I had not met all those with keys
That opened doors with expertise
Who let in just the ones they pleased
But nothing there for me.
This filtering soon got on my nerves
It used up all my life’s reserves
That left me laying on the curves
Of life or up a tree.
I found I had to double down
And take my losses without a sound
Always lost and never found
Content was not to be.
Now old and tired my life is spent
My brain is weak my back is bent
This thing called life came and went
I face an old dead sea.
I must dig deep to find the will
For one hurrah a simple thrill
To see beyond that final hill
Of what was meant to be.
Now here I stand in solitude
And look at all that I pursued
A life rejecting servitude
Misspent for all to see.
I find no joy no cheering voices
Who care to know my wayward choices
No pleasant sounds among the noises
On which we might agree.
Still I never took what was not mine
Condemned not rain nor blazing shine
Nor bowed to any earthly shrine
Those things not meant for me.
If life is but a stepping stone
To take it on or go alone
Count me among the names unknown
And set my spirit free.
surely it will be
such a tedious fall
take me to the place
where hopes are burned
individuality ridiculed
uniqueness put to shame
surely there's a bridge
just takes a leap of faith..
hug
Kathy
Love ya!
Jane
'Still I never took what was not mine
Condemned not rain nor blazing shine'...
Nor bowed to any earthly shrine'...
I hope he gets to see some joy beyond 'that final hill'...
Great writing!
Diana...
In this poem, you have written the life of everyday, unknown man. Kudos.
Ron
Michael D.