A Yorkshire Poet Poet Free verse

Lonely Pictutes

We chase the light through the sky
We snapshot a still to try 
Try and capture a meaning or some context 
But what treason does our thought jest?
Do we trample on flowers to survive?
Sending bullets tearing through the sky
Do we rip the fabric of this life?

For what are we left to be?

Lonely souls wandering aimlessly.

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David Smith August 5, 2021 at 1:18 PM Well penned. I am sure this one will have many trying harder to find relevance in the scheme of things and just maybe find a coat tail to latch onto. Now is a good time with a number of surprise medallists at Olympics. regards David in NZ A Yorkshire Poet August 6, 2021 at 2:22 PM Thanks David. We all need something to aim for but for some they’re not even allowed to aim. Stay safe.