The Quest of Life
The quest of life, it is no certain thing,
No circumstance assurance brings of bliss.
So many thoughts, so very few take wing;
The hit or miss is measured more by miss.
Shall happiness take hold when we gain gold?
The heaping up of stuff shows little worth.
The misery of wealth is too well told;
Tranquility is not composed of earth.
Does then it lie in that we wish to do,
The voyages of life in deed and thought?
But, O, the tedium of all that's new!
It's not upon the breeze that calm is brought.
The joy of life is not a thing we find,
It is a choice we make within the mind.
Copyright © Jerrold Prothero | Year Posted 2025
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