I’m Feeling Diminished
I’ve become obscure in my old age;
when my life is nearly finished;
although a poet; I’m certainly no sage;
feeling somewhat diminished.
All around me, I view others success;
while failure has become my lot;
perhaps, I’ve tried too hard to impress;
vanity may be all that I’ve got.
I’m jealous of what others have done;
wondering, where I went wrong;
I’m learning to love nearly everyone;
but, I’m old; and no longer belong.
Words that I write; others might scorn;
making my writing insignificant;
I’m from a realm where love was born;
where, any gift is magnificent.
I dare not judge these words, I write;
they are only gifts to be shared;
those all alone, in the darkness of night;
need to be told God cared.
God has given every person a purpose;
there is certainly no doubt about it;
in the essence of time; it will surface;
it won’t be the same, without it.
Tho I’ve become obscure in my old age;
feeling all alone and diminished;
in the poems, I write; God is the sage;
and his last line: “It is finished.”
Monty 1.31.26. # 3,166