The Man Who Has None

In life we are running, to this and from that, afraid if we stop, it will be the end.
If we can feel the sting of the lungs, breathing hard, it will prove that we are not 
ready for that pine box.  Then when we see our life pass before our eyes, remembering all that was forgotten, we might appreciate the freedom from the temptations of the world.  Each child that grows up, with the joi de vivre, or the joy of being, finds it fading each year of life.  The road that leads to freedom, 
passes through the eye of the needle, for it is in the losing, that we are fullfilled.
As fortunate is...the man who has none, when the cup of forgotten dreams, is finally filled.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace