MontyCaldwell

We are each a servant to someone;
a master that gives instructions;
one who commands, what’s to be done
often leading to corruptions.

Some of us serve the master called Pride;
its seems that we never have enough;
placing the interests of all others aside;
ignoring all critiques and

I’m on a majic carpet ride;
floating on a blanket of air;
taking me where thoughts decide;
my mind is taking me there.

My body is not really moving;
my mind is devoid of where;
reality, is not disapproving;
not even seeming to care.

I entered a realm; solely

Reality is the puzzle called life;
we each are one of its pieces;
definer of both peace and strife;
each has signed long leases.

We spend a lifetime, trying to fit in;
never seem to know where we are;
fearing the end before we begin;
it all seems a little

It seems we live life’s book in stages;
so much, ordained; before we begun;
each, only allotted so very few pages;
we act out our roles, till we’re done.

As I look back; all life seems unreal;
in life’s play, I’m seldom engaged;
it seems as

It’s seems as though I’ve lost all desire;
there’s nothing left to please me now;
at one time; all, was ablaze; on fire;
looking back; I don’t see why or how.

All my energy and focus were once clear;
my desire was driving me on;
but

Many think that perfection is a goal;
the ultimate plateau, to achieve;
but perfection is a season; life’s role;
when mankind learns to believe.

Perfection is never contained within;
it is strictly a gift from above;
it is not the state, where all begin;
but a Peace, granted by

All things have a time, and a purpose;
that’s easy to understand;
though oft that reason doesn’t surface;
but it comes about by command.

We blame many things on accidents;
though they have a purpose, too;
they’re not merely from circumstance;
for destiny can bring them to