When I think back
It was the striving that made us happy
A target to aim for,
A growing-up to live through;
Striving wasn't an effort
It was just the thing we wanted to do
To get somewhere;
Enjoyment and pleasure cannot compete with it
The wanting to land somewhere
On a high plain,
On life's ledges;
Where we could stop and take a breath
And decide that we'd almost made it
Even though we hadn't;
And now, all this is past
Like a river flowed by
Like a long drawn-out goodbye
And we are left with an empty space
No longer in the race,
Nothing left but surviving
Gone, the glorious striving.
-
Author:
Paul Gerard Reed (
Offline) - Published: March 24th, 2025 14:38
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 32
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, Poetic Licence
Offline)
Comments2
I heard the end of this poem before it arrived. To look up and say I made it this far is wonderful but to say it is over is another thing. Complex emotions and thoughts fill this poem and leave a feeling of nostalgia and sadness.
Very well written write reflecting on the thoughts and emotions of having dreams and aspirations, always having something to strive for, you get a sense of hopelessness at the end, that there are no more dreams, just getting by, loved the read
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.