I Started to Write a Poem

I started to write a poem,

had no idea where to go,

nothing comes to mind,

as I sit here all alone.

It’s not easy just to write,

something prophetic,

something profound,

nature takes its own course,

and I’m just an old man,

whose thoughts are a jumble.

So, I started to write a poem,

of what I see all around,

the children bustling off to school,

as parents look relieved,

the yellow busses filled with young,

bright, green leaves on trees,

flowers drooping, colors fading.

Late summer sun shining,

grasses dry and brown from drought,

this world just keeps turning,

not thinking what we are about.

I find that love grows deeper,

each year as we trod along,

life is like these poems I write,

a bit messy, a bit trite.

So, I do only what I can,

and continue to write


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