Patience.
It's the key to happiness, sometimes.
It's what I need now, it's what I lack
What I long for.
Direction.
Never presented itself to me.
Always fleeting, always dangling
At my fingertips.
The future.
Can't be avoided, nor ignored.
No matter how much time you spend burying it
Under the covers of the past.
What is my calling?
Where is the path?
How long will it take?
How long will I last?
YOU ARE READING
Free Rein
Poetry"The human will, in its search for freedom of expression, becomes a self-destructive impulse." -Victor Terras Second collection of my poetry.
