Details |
Christina Ritchey Poem
The echo of the past that ricochets around endlessly,
The blossoming of the future that will become destiny,
To take the sculpture of life and alter its hue,
And carve into the next blindly, without a clue.
The words that attempt to nudge one off the ledge,
The emotions that drive them far away, past the edge,
The silver blade of emptiness that has shattered the soul,
Beware, for they are the wait for what the future may hold.
To wield the tool that the past has molded,
Then turn the pages of history over, unfolded,
To never read backwards or never read what's not written,
And discover the voice that is locked away, hidden.
To not only think in the ways to which society allows,
Is to not live in the before or the next but to live in the now.
Copyright © Christina Ritchey | Year Posted 2016
|