The burden of youth now lifted,
gears well lubed and automatically shifted.
We’ll coast up life’s many a peak.
And freely glide to wherever we seek.
Our time’s endless and just begun.
In a sea of many we’ll float as one.
Stars will dance in the brightest of skies.
And forever tomorrows await our eyes.
In the clouds we soar, ever nearing heaven’s door.
Our sunsets engulfed on an endless shore,
the sands of time unturned and pure.
And all is perfect with one to adore.
Like a boat without a dock,
it’s another week of writer’s block.
I drift around aimlessly,
tossed about on a wordless sea.
The sun still rises every day.
But all the thought’s gone astray.
The tides do rise and again will fall.
It’s sink or swim because that’s all.
Equipped with pen and a pad,
afloat I’ll stay and won’t be sad.
The pages will fill, soaked in sweat.
The ink will dry with no regret.
The sands of time will shift once more.
My anchor will drop on a distant shore.
The vistas there will all be new.
Perspectives’ will change, as they do.
Horizons are always just ahead.
The breeze will lead to where we’re led.
I can’t complain, this journey’s been good.
So I’ll keep thrashing as we should.
When values are charismatic
and thought becomes plutocratic,
participation is devoid.
Then hardship is systematic.
When this world seems dramatic
and our head’s full of static,
anger’s then employed.
And hate becomes pragmatic.
When life, it seems erratic
and joy becomes sporadic,
worry fills the void.
Then the gloom is traumatic.
When time itself is problematic
and the future’s enigmatic,
trust is then destroyed.
And solitude becomes symptomatic.
But when we are diplomatic
and compassion’s automatic,
violence we avoid.
Then love is democratic.