Numbered are the days of plenty
Fewer are the years of twenty
Fleeting decades not replenished
A life gone by with soul repenting
A need to find reason unrelenting
And quickly fly the days.
A maiden voyage for each and all
But now with bodies scourged and flawed
We leave behind the pressured goals
And conflicting needs of diverse roles
And nurse the pain in our troubled souls
And numbered are the days.
Days and nights often spent alone
Fewer choices in the telephone
Soon to leave our ocean home
Swim as we must till we turn to stone
For none will remember our happy home
When the days turn to ash.
I am but one in the open sea
Perhaps soon a victim after target be
But I had my day, I think most will agree
Despite the rumors told of a fouler me
But days are now drawn with less energy
And comfort is defined by love and peace.
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On the contrary your life seems to have been much fuller than most and in good service to humanity as a nurse. But perhaps, I miss read the poem that I am want to do. If that is true, my apologies in advance.
Regardless, the poem is beautifully written and full of thought-provoking connections.
Ron
thought provoking read. keep writing!!