Dawn till
dusk.
Eyes open,
it begins.
Winding
things up.
Kick start
the engine.
Scurrying
around.
Getting things
done.
Wondering,
trying to
make sense.
Sorting
it out.
Wondering,
how?
Wondering,
why?
Rushing
around.
Making things
happen.
Following
the script,
the rules.
Jungle,
societal,
no
time to
lose.
No
time to
waste.
Pounding
the
treadmill.
Pounding!
Spinning
the wheel.
Get things
done.
Contemplation,
little time.
Scurrying
around,
making
it happen.
Winding down.
Deep breath.
Dusk
approaches.
Just
over the
hill.
Looking back,
spark of
thought.
Curious.
What was
the point?
No answer.
Doesn’t matter.
Get in the
wheel.
Scurrying
around
getting things
done.
Then sleep.
Eternity’s
dusk.
-
Author:
John Prophet (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 23rd, 2021 05:23
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet
Offline)
Comments3
You've got it in a nutshell............ tiring isn't it.......
Hi Lorna,
Trying and tiring for sure.
Thank you kindly for reading my work.
JP
That's the highway of life John, which you envisioned here so perfectly. I turn 65 in December and in the process of signing up for Medicare. The transition between working full time and retiring will be a welcome relief. Fortunately I have many hobbies to keep me active. Great write John. 😊
That treadmill can be so tiring, I came off it and walk at my own speed in differing directions now I am retired.
Andy
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