Passing Time's Existence Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Losing track of where I'm looking in the distance for
the horizon that I'm trying to get through.

Listening to church bells ringing through a morning
mist, as melodies take me racing into waters of
rapidly flowing rivers.

Never ceasing their rhythms as they rush along banks
of earth, passing time and it's existence, roaring
into their futures without fears of failure.

Being assured of victory over all trials ever gone
through so far in this pitiful stretch of life.

It's forlorn shores of tired boredom and insincere
positions of those who pretended to be honest in
love are over.