It’s morning; the break of dawn;
eraser of all the past’s mistakes;
time for all of life to move on;
as, once again, a new dawn breaks.
Pry fingers off, all remnants of past;
we weren’t meant to always hold on;
sadness nor mistakes; not meant to
Poems about Reality
It’s morning; the break of dawn;
eraser of all the past’s mistakes;
time for all of life to move on;
as, once again, a new dawn breaks.
Pry fingers off, all remnants of past;
we weren’t meant to always hold on;
sadness nor mistakes; not meant to
Most understand love and deep devotion;
it’s what we seem to live for;
but loneliness substitutes toxic emotion;
and poisonous thoughts we abhor.
We covet companionship; share each feeling;
to share our thoughts, one and all.
But loneliness energies send us reeling;
converting our walk to a crawl.
Why
…Lying asleep, a door to my right;
was forcibly, pushed wide open;
alertness, restored; ending night;
it’s longevity was only mere token.
Why was reality suddenly driven,
to invade my peaceful slumber?
Why did it permit, a jolt, be given;
fiercely, my sleep, to encumber?
The incident, it seems:
…As I walked to my mailbox, beside the road
a piece of trash caught my eye.
The remains of a crushed cardboard box,
was there in the grass, nearby.
It meant nothing to me; this litter, this trash;
merely tossed from a car passing by;
an affront to surroundings, this
A sailing vessel, the vestige of past;
is traversing uncharted seas;
it’s wooden hull has managed to last;
it carries cargo, intended to please.
That vessel exists for a limited time;
designed to rot and decay;
from the beginning, by his design;
destined to pave the way.
We are
…Life is a most arduous journey;
with barriers along the way;
you almost need an attorney;
in order to negotiate each day.
Why does it all seem so trying;
does life’s stress have appeal?
Must we spend much time crying;
for this life to appear to be real.
Why
…Life is challenged with mountains to climb;
great oceans, with waters to swim;
but until I am able; my limits, define;
I won’t know where to begin.
Those great craggy rocks bring on my fears;
for its a long long way down;
and my dread of the water brings
There is a place called tomorrow;
and we will all reach it someday;
on its wisdom we all can borrow;
for tomorrow was yesterday.
There is a future called yesterday;
and also; a today called tomorrow;
in heaven, yesterday will stay that way;
and today is the burial plot of