The crowd went one way
I did not follow them -
Advice, littered on scraps of paper,
Blew past me on the wind;
The world turned on it's steady axis
As builders built and songstresses sang
Whilst summers glowed and faded
And men made wrong judgements;
Wood and stone were carved
Into beautiful things,
Cupboard doors shut with a thud
On objects unloved and neglected;
And still I thought -
Thought and thought and thought,
Without prayer or movement
Without band or union;
For not being one of the crowd
Forbade me to join in
And life, like a gentle stream
Trickled slowly away;
No life is perfectly lived
But can be perfectly wasted
The gravy boats poured
Candles burned and pebbles skimmed;
In Caernarvon we stood in the sun
And spent the last few days
Not knowing, not understanding
Just being, just travelling as one;
Let me back in!
Let me have this life again
To read the books I should have read
To be a child and to be a man;
To sing until midnight
To roar on the tired horse
To love more fondly and intensely
To take at last my chosen course.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully crafted poem. Meaningful message. To my Poem List.