A Futile Life Poem by Boston Kelley

This life do I live, yet understand it, I do not;
it seems but a fleeting thing like sand that is taken
with the wind.
All human pleasure but lasts momentarily, leaving
lack of hope for something satisfying.
A human body I possess, subject to all manner
of pain and limitation.
A path for my life is chartered before my birth; I am
left to follow the ways of society.
What pleasure is in this life when everything seems
so hollow? How can I find true satisfaction?
A lifetime stands before me, yet I am not granted it;
the great human possessions I can be promised,
yet have taken away.
Even the faculties of my mind seem futile; were I to
spend time in pursuit of learning, would that offer
contentment?
Bodily pleasures produce great excitement; among
human pleasure they stand as the greatest.
Yet, even these, have dangerous consequences, for they
are not without their effects.
I gaze into the window of the future and see nothing; those
later years shall remain hidden to my eye.
Ponder I must, what will I encounter? Will I obtain
that eternal contentment?