Rudyard Kooistra on
4 hours ago
Staring at my ever retreating horizons.
Watching, as the colours fade back into grey.
Can I pack my bag any better,
Now that I know where I'm going?
Am I any more likely to succeed,
For being older, and more tired.
Another day fades into dusk's waiting shades.
Should I mourn the death of another dream?
Another weary child finds sleep has no answer,
To the merciless sneaking and creeping...
Wednesday 16th June 2021 3:11 am