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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Personal · #1112452
A simple poem I once wrote when emotionally incapacitated, depressed, & in poor health.
What is normal,
What is right?
Why must we all live in fright
Of our peers?
Through the years
The fear incredibly increases
As each mind gathers up the pieces
Of memory.
Like emery,
Experience shapes us, untried,
Into basket-cases, wide-eyed,
Less intelligent
Than an infant.
[But more productive.]
We know in time will come a day we grow
Too old to live,
Yet does life give
Us a plan to live by
And a reason why?
Or are we doomed to question life 'til we die?
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