We crumble beneath the heavy weight
Of the mighty modern age, where
Stress cracks, like fine lace, grace man’s surface;
Today, we dream of tomorrow
And tomorrow, we long for the next.
While such visions drive the weary forth
Like oxen under the whip
It leaves no one guarding the gates
It sets the ship adrift!
Watching all this from the sidelines
I let out a deep sigh, close my eyes
And long for the days when we were sane…
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Author:
Fränz Müller (
Offline) - Published: July 27th, 2025 08:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
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Comments1
When the burden is heavy we dream and I love the last line for sanity is determined by a point of view. Very nice
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