One Hundred Years (Thought) Poem by Poet of the River

One Hundred Years (Thought)

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One hundred years, One hundred years.
Full of questions, conclusions, and fears.
So much is lost, so little gained.
The past we left is deeply stained.
A thought or theory.
A question or inquiry.
All trapped in an illusion.
Looking for the elusive conclusion,
To the question of one hundred

Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: trapped
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Poet of the River

Poet of the River

California, but move around a lot.
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