There is the Swift
There is the strong
Yet, we race like we’re in a theft
Chased by nothing but we throng-
Forward, perhaps to meet a demise unknown
Nah! better still, life is a race they say
Yet, “they” fail to make the right path known-
to we the young’ons who wait for answers: that’ll sway-
the truth, at least to grace our efforts
……sadly, well no
Unfortunately or should I say
Blissfully, oh blissfully I tread the road, a journey of dilemma
Mapped out by “destiny”
rocky paved stones inscribed upon by doubt
Doubt that weighs the scale of skepticism
Over the light arms of optimism.
What then is left?
Nothing left to bear
What more can be achieved?
That’ll ever make me feel fulfilled
How far could I get?
Well, maybe a little mile into the depths of hopeless waters
Nonetheless, I would let the search for answers enough reinforcement
My tread would be the mark; the hope that’ll trod upon
I would let my journey be a lesson, an answer to the young ones exercising their way through the first trimester and beyond
To the young ones anticipating the answers “they” would give
When I then become a “they”, the pendulum would swing
Oh you swing to the rhythm of optimism, graced by the motion of time that’ll light hope
Then I’ll help them realise life isn’t just a race…. It’s a journey,
a journey to find answers through paths of dilemma,
and profer solutions before crossing the finish line
of your “last breathe”.