What is it that frightens you
Is it being alone with nothing to do
Is it some dark dingy place
Where things that creep and crawl are in the pace
When the future looks dark and dim
And you wonder how could it begin
When you look down the unknown line
Would it be that what's there is hard to define
Is it the beginning or the end of it all
And either way it would seem it's not your call
If indeed the future is a finite thing
Perhaps make your present something that will sing.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem