Plagued With Frost Poem by Matthew Densley

Though I have a pulse, I'm not alive
Though I have motion, I have no drive
I have a face but no identity
Though I'm quiet, I've no serenity

And what is more, my soul is lost
And what is worse, it's plagued with frost
And gone my sense of right and wrong
And gone the times my mind was strong

There is no guiding light ahead
I have no dreams when I'm in bed
There's nothing that I want to be
My future I cannot foresee

I'm full of questions but answers none
Competed often but never won
I'm lost and have nowhere to turn
I take life's lessons but never learn






'Plagued With Frost' Copyright © 2011 Matthew Densley
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