Those who wait
We
spend our whole lives waiting;
for
what, we do not know.
And
what do we have to show,
but
years of broken dreams?
Always
anticipating,
something
better will arise
to
fill our weary eyes.
Impossible,
it seems.
With
energy abating,
can
we soldier on
when
what we know is gone?
Is
despair the theme?
Upon
our nerves grating,
the
droning of the days
stuck
in this malaise
losing
all our steam.
Are
we contemplating
what
happens if we fall,
or
do we care at all
for
those we leave behind?
All
the time spent hating,
fists
bang against the past.
Yet
it will stand fast,
never
us to mind.
With
such things stagnating,
what
are we to do?
Well,
from me to you,
do
not be so blind.
This
I am here stating:
each
day is a chance
for
good to advance.
What
is lost, we find.
I get it. You're a gloomy Gus. I am sure birds of a feather will flock to you. Once again: in reality, the world functions perfectly. It's simply a selection of people that had nothing to do with a functioning world that messes it up. Don't end up being part of the problem.
ReplyDeletePutting on a happy face would be dishonest. I have simply stated how things are. What they will be, remains to be seen.
DeleteThe last few lines of hope shine bright enough to keep the darkness of the rest of this poem at bay. Reflects the world as it is very well, may our light shine bright enough to reach those lost within the shadows.
ReplyDeleteDarkness flees in the presence of light. The brighter it is, the fewer shadows there are to hide in. Let it shine, and you will be surprised what you find.
DeleteThis is an eloquent poem. I know you meant every word. I am sorry I brought so much imperfection into what was perfect by design. I didn't shake things up on purpose. Someone else did. He's not sorry about it. On the contrary: it's the one thing he never regrets. Peace be with you, my friend.
ReplyDeleteThe poem is not about placing blame. I am simply communicating how I feel. We shall see how things turn out.
Delete