I came upon an old man who was lost at sea
He called out and raised his eyes towards me
And he asked me "Where do we go when we're gone?
Do we stay here, or do we move on?"
"My friend," I said, "that I don't know
I don't know what's above or what lies below
But I know while I'm here I want to be the best I can"
And saying that, I reached out my hand
Don't hold back, the sea is dark and doesn't wait
Don't lose hope, even you can be saved
You may be barely six feet above the ground
But it's never too late to lay your burden down
He took my hand and I pulled him free
He turned around and looked back at the sea
"And to think that if I had given in
I never would've had this chance to start again"
Comments
-
I can see what you're tryin' to reach with this and the last poem you wrote. Sometimes you never really get the point across, and that's okay, the journey there is often the most troublesom, thus the most enlightening. I can see you're moving toward more character moving poetry, which is very good. I need to get away from object driven poetry.
Adding your comment:
