This Is It
Throughout a journey of love and hate:
I've learned too little, or too much!
And being daily in a different state:
Has left me only out of touch.
I've set out so soon ago,
As is on an obscure quest;
And up till now I still don't know:
Whether it was for the worst or best!
The very start still seems so clear,
The very end is happening now;
And with but woe in the atmosphere:
I wish I could start over somehow.
It's not that I would change the course,
The words, the laughs or the cries;
But maybe try all that remorse,
Destroying by breaking my disguise!
I could even spend more time
With whom I really dearly miss,
And forget about the mount of rime
Inside that guided me amiss!
Despite the coldness in my heart,
It still beats, hence I'm forlorn;
And the passion increases when we're furthest apart,
And the heat melts the frost and leaves me to mourn.
I've never really a destination set,
Yet let the tide but seize control;
Alas, I guess that this is it:
The time I've finally stopped to stroll!
Comments about this poem (This Is It by Danny The Dreamer Boyd )
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