Wrote this one in February 2012 after a long break from writing.
Untitled
Frightened hope, ambitious dreams,
Unravelled slowly at the seams,
Loose threads, stilted prose,
Another glass that’s full of woes
Swirling smoke, it curls and climbs
In the distance, a church bell chimes
Faraway voices, jubilant hearts
Gravely ignorant, we all play our parts
Restless nights and weary eyes,
The gentle sound of anxious sighs
Idle liquor, a moonlit stroll,
The endless struggle for control
Constant pain, thoughts conflicted,
A grieved heart, so now inflicted
Neglected caution, foregone care,
Only so much, can one man bear
Another spark, yet darkness persists,
Drifting on upwards, it twirls and it twists
Within a few moments, lost to the clouds,
The poet’s existence, consumed by the crowds
© Ben Johnson 2012.
No comments:
Post a Comment