The following poem just came to me during my evening walk. Let me know what you think.
The clock ticks, and each hand
falls closer to the end –
A haze descends on the man
who sits in a corner and yearns
for a brighter Destiny, a dearer hope,
a fate that is grander and mightier than most.In the smoke, a light gleams;
an idea that sparks
a light bulb in the weary dark.
Its days are numbered, though
it will fizzle soon,
it always does, the smoke smothering.The man then will turn the
computer screen again, and
watch; another video of men
with grandeur and courage greater:
Those who step out of their shallow
pools of thought and take a dip…Lost lamb loves like water flows;
his kin waiting for a drop that
travels downwards, never stopping or
filling any jug held out.
The love surges and fades with the tides –
they never last long enough to disperse the smoke.That ostrich-head firmly buried
emerges to seek nourishment,
in the form of praise and adulation…
When finding none, it screeches loud!
An unpleasant atrocious sound,
turning heads and turning them away.The man is alone,
The hand falls too then,
Ending his last chance to atone.
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