Read Poems by Marugu Mo

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What's The Point?

Craggy digits deftly scribble 
Scrambled thoughts
Like snowfall on an unwilling canvas
Each a unique crystalline flake
A random one, a memory, a pain.
Some things to remiss,
Yet forcefully pervasive.
Some wistful vain recollections.
Scattered guilty shards
Faint hope. Unwilled. Lost faith 
Life dotted with streaks of gray, 
Uncontrolled. And unexpected
Reminiscent of a wistful youth 
An unwilling participant in this wheel 
Not conceived willingly.
Participating towards an inevitable end
No control, no choice
In face, in genes, in race, in place,
Just a human 
What was, what is, what will be
What has always been
It’s all the same, 
what’s the point?

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Tom Woody Date: 5/2/2024 2:56:00 PM That's the point! Life is often mundane, filled with the minutiae of daily living, and the joys and sorrows. So much to write about, so little time. Meaningless? Solomon might say so
Sara Etgen-Baker Date: 4/20/2024 4:36:00 PM I felt twinges of sadness as I read your poem. I felt sincere heartache when I read these words: "no control, no choice in face, in genes, in race, in place......what's the point." These words are very similar words my younger brother used as he tumbled into an occasional depression trying to find his niche in life. Sending you blessings and prayers, Sara

Tom Woody

Date: 5/2/2024 2:56:00 PM

That's the point! Life is often mundane, filled with the minutiae of daily living, and the joys and sorrows. So much to write about, so little time. Meaningless? Solomon might say so

Sara Etgen-Baker

Date: 4/20/2024 4:36:00 PM

I felt twinges of sadness as I read your poem. I felt sincere heartache when I read these words: "no control, no choice in face, in genes, in race, in place......what's the point." These words are very similar words my younger brother used as he tumbled into an occasional depression trying to find his niche in life. Sending you blessings and prayers, Sara

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