December 2008
How long is it we must wander
until we find our call
How many chances can we squander
How many times must we fall
I sit alone this Sunday afternoon
nothing upon my plate
in my heart as empty as this room
I wonder if it is already too late
Has my time past
is it gone away
Happiness did briefly last
and then it went astray
Its been so long
this nothingness
that seems so wrong
and causes such distress
From it my soul seeks an oasis
a place where I might rest
but life puts me through its paces
and has taken from me my best
If I should somehow start again
I wish to have a soulmate
a friendship like ink to a pen
a heart to love and to relate
I imagine from this lowly state
and feel love in my grasp
but I hope its not too late
and that love might somehow last
Her silhouette I can imagine clear
her shadow in the soft moonlight
the dream of ever having her near
her love alone would make things right
and finally quench my fear
© James T. Adair
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem