Driftwood Poem by Tanner Wilson

Time drifing slowly, seems everlasting,
Like a dam in a creek, things appear to be casting.
Floating through life, serene I dream,
Of things to come, miles downstream.
A cove, a grove, or even a trove,
Life unknown, thoughts become unwove.

Current picks up, vitality fading,
What lies next? A guess, i'm jading.
Obscurely distorted, my path seems grim,
What was once scripted, is now just dim.
Time running out, helpless and weak,
I long for the dawn when life is not bleak.
To alter my course and start over new,
But all I hear, is the chant 'Adieu! '

River runs short; It's loud, It's obnoxious,
This is the end of life while conscious.
I tumble, I fall, but at the end of it all,
I land on my feet and I stand tall.
'What was this? A test? ' I must confess,
'I'm confused, I feel used,
I'm battered and bruised.'

Reality sets in, it was only a dream,
For life as driftwood, is just as it would seem.