Poetry is a language Of powerful thoughts and imagery, it can strike in the heart of man, it can shape lives and actions. Then can it not be used to enhance to the finder qualities of man? Rather than providing shallow enjoyment? And promoting the baser instincts? If I was a poet, I would like my words To compell the soul, To pursue the true pupose of existence. Oh, what wouldn’t I give to go on collecting my reward, Beyond this life....

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

A Bundle of Disappointments

21-09-04

Life is a bundle of disappointments,
A series of failures
Countless problems and obstacles
Barring success from ever reaching me.

You didn’t help,
With your sneering and domineering ways
I’m only a human with a heart,
Do you know how many times it broke?

I have seen the bleakness of night,
Its hours endlessly long,
While mornings sped me by
A rarity vanishing swiftly…mockingly.

Yet I linger day after day, yearning….
I want to hope, live and love,
I want to accomplish.
I want to be worthy of my wish.

But reality strikes cruelly,
Too many shackles pull me to the ground.
Will I never be free to dream as I please?
Will mistakes and failures pursue me relentlessly?

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