A Conundrum Poem by Eillio Imbasciati

Things too far,
Can't be there
Too much waiting,
No purpose to the day
Could accomplish things for today,
But then there wouldn't be anything for tomorrow
A conundrum
Deep in the autumn color,
Pages sticky,
Situations abrupt
Problems that go as far back as the white wall,
When things were whitewashed
All this slowing him down, clouding his vision
Can't see in the distance,
Cannot stand where he doesn't belong
This is where he stands