My dreams, my tears, my love
will it all have been for naughtif the hope and faith of a deity
we’ve prayed to for so long,
is not?
Could I have walked along
without caring or no one lovingme and all this would not matter?
and all the hate and destruction
will have been valued in the same?
What value does all the music and art
and poetry give to our lives?why not stand still like the tree
or hang alone like the yellow
rock in the sky at night?
What do all these words matter
when you don’t care what they sayeven if I tell you they come from
my heart?
Death, is even temporary when
memory no longer serves us, if thisblue green rock we walk upon soon
disappears into the black space,
for nothing will ever know we
were ever here
Glad I stopped by today. Enjoyed the existential feel of your poem. The thoughts have much depth. I suppose the futility of things crosses our minds especially in the cold of winter.
ReplyDeleteI hear you, my friend. It amazes me that ,my online friends enjoy and appreciate my words, but my family has no interest in reading them.....yet if they wished to know me, this is where they would find me.........sigh. I love "why not stand still like the tree
ReplyDeleteor hang alone like the yellow
rock in the sky at night?"
I am putting my poems into book form so that maybe someone someday might wish to read them after I am gone......and so my work doesnt get thrown out in the landfall!!!!! Keeping writing, amigo - to us, your words are golden.