It is the same familiar stretch of road
Reminiscent of things I vaguely remember
in stages,
Insignificantly, I feel further each time!
A progressive walk,
A jog,
I'm sure I must've been sprinting at times.
I'm out of breath!
Tired...
I am barely managing the walk these days
taking one heavy step after the next,
Less anticipating, and eager
Less energetic, and inspired
It is the same course
With no visible end or ambition of its own.
Though I do not look as lively in the mirror
It is relentless, indifferent,
And indignantly generated by life's obligation.
As my ambiguity, and futility perspire
I fear to stop and give turn to another.
I have reluctantly come to love this antiquated road
Giving pulse to my existence,
It's so important for our lives to have substance. A life without meaning is definitely not worth living. I love your word usage. I was, I am, I will be; If these are only words than they mean nothing. Peace, Love and Blessings Always, Paul.
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
Share
Print
Save
Follow
It's so important for our lives to have substance. A life without meaning is definitely not worth living. I love your word usage. I was, I am, I will be; If these are only words than they mean nothing. Peace, Love and Blessings Always, Paul.