Staring at the traffic ahead, what comes in your head
Do you follow a thread of what lies ahead, good
Seeds you've sown, already grown for the
Harvest, some lost by the wayside
Is it dread of what's in store,
Mazes galore, not your
Call, or just glimpses
Of the past, a quick
Repast, series
Of repeats
Defrag
My
Dear
Cast aside
Your doubts of
People no longer visible
Their choice, not yours, a tiresome
Chore of catching the wind, going steeper
None is on your plate as you've given your all
Love does not reward back to the giver but don't count
As loss, for in the final reckoning, you are completed by your goal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem and nice points, most of my poetry I write while driving and when traffic congest I hurry and jot down more