I know it's pointless,
Unnecessary to think,
Of what has yet to exist.
Times yet to come,
Sweep the currents,
Beneath my feet.
I slip on stable ground,
Without a need for struggle,
And yet,
I fall.
I think of what is to come,
What might befall me,
My family,
Those close,
Even if nothing of the sort,
Does so much as register,
In our walks of life.
I worry of growth,
The tediousness of it all.
Tripping and falling,
Stumbling at every corner,
Steadily but surely makes me barely a man,
By my own standards.
A man who has learned not by example,
But by failures.
That in itself has brought me,
At the very least,
A glimpse of understanding,
An outlook on life,
Only attained,
By unrelenting experience,
Only gained from suffering and failure.
You see,
To err, it is but a common occurrence,
In our fleeting life.
It is in our shortcomings,
The awareness of our inconsistencies,
Our imperfections,
Those lapses in time
Where we become aware,
Of our undeniable blind spots,
True growth is found.
That is only but the beginning,
Of countless moments to come,
Moments of failure and weakness,
Of growth and evolution.
Situations that I must overcome,
Failures that I must push through,
A whole life to live,
A whole myriad,
Of Choices to make
So much wisdom to be accumulated,
So many experiences...
YOU ARE READING
Abroad
PoetryThe purpose of this poetry book is one of defiance. Not to others, or anything in particular. It is against the war we wage internally, against ourselves every day. There is no bigger challenge in life than facing your thoughts, your true emotions...
