Haulting Future
I’m at a gate,
It may be bait,
The next stepping stone,
Will determine the tone,
Of my destiny,
Meant to be,
Something more?
Living life poor,
Dressing each sore,
My dreams bore,
What I desire,
Though I perspire,
Over what I aspire,
To be;
You see;
Lifetimes are never as simplistic as the sun,
More intricate than a spider’s web spun,
The decision to strive further-
Or reach for the comforting slick of the gun;
Following the curve of the stream,
Feeling every moist tear team,
From the lids,
To my ribs,
Swollen from inner struggle,
Facing every beastly trouble,
Encountering twist after twist,
An occasional romantic tryst,
Lifts the soul,
Filling the hole,
Of loves lost,
And lives tossed,
To the side,
There’s a time to abide,
With the season’s tide,
It’s time to face,
My future place,
And life,
Scares me.
Copyright © Melissa Ross | Year Posted 2011
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