Line Gauthier Poet Free verse

Wandering

Thrust into
The game of life
No map
No directions
No hand to hold

Alone and lost
Naïve and always short
Wandering and hallucinating
Aimlessly senselessly
Days to nights

Weeks to years
Where does it all lead
What does it all mean
The hurt the pain
The illusions

When does it all stop
This hurting those along
Our own troubled journey



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

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Heidi Sands March 30, 2018 at 9:20 AM Life can be hard and many can experience times of feeling so lost. You have expressed this well. :) Line Gauthier March 30, 2018 at 5:47 PM Thank you so much for your visit and comment, Heidi. Much appreciated.

Caren Krutsinger March 30, 2018 at 5:12 AM I am in depressive mode reading this, Line, hoping so it has never applied to you. But suspecting because of your "nailing it" that it has. The hurt, the pain, the illusions, all create each other in cyclical form, now don't they? Well done! Line Gauthier March 30, 2018 at 7:11 AM I have been pulling out some older poetry that I am tweaking so many are thankfully old feelings.

Kim Rodrigues March 29, 2018 at 3:48 PM You capture the wandering spirit with all its sadness! Line Gauthier March 29, 2018 at 9:45 PM Thanks, Kim, for your much appreciated visit and comment.

Susan Ashley March 29, 2018 at 3:48 PM Such melancholy musings, Line.. A soul searching thought provoking poem.. Line Gauthier March 29, 2018 at 9:44 PM Thank you, Susan, for your much appreciated visit and comment.

Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart March 29, 2018 at 12:13 PM This is so bleak, a stirring pen Line. xomo Line Gauthier March 29, 2018 at 12:35 PM Thank you so much for your visit and comment, Maureen.