Run around like a lunatic don't get much done
Going here, going there, hiding from the sun
Years march on
Nights get long
Priorities change
Things to do
All for you
Life is not the same
You were always there
Unaware
Even when gone astray
Now joy is found
Fooling around
Life is like a play
With no compare
Off the air
You slowly turn the page
Redeem the time
What do you do
To take away the pain
Life you give
Peculiar
One that is despised
Hidden from the gaze
Of all of those now blind
Now of no renown
Content
Found
Seated in the heavens
Walking on the earth
What a joy
The mystery
Of rebirth.
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Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 13th, 2024 09:43
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments1
You've lost me somewhere in the translation, the beauty of its rendering rather captivating as the lines trip down the page, tantalizing. Intriguing, and vaguely elusive. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks again, I'm getting more vague with age, my wife calls it dementia.
Well, you communicated it excellently, however I hesitated to pin it down since you'd done it sufficiently. Thank you again!
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