This is a short poem about what it means to be truly alive...
Time To Live
Along the paved streets of old London town
I see so many people struggling, pulled down
And on the bus, blankly looking for a destination
Passing brick houses, slums full of such negation
And shops through which flits the weary buyer
Worn down by life, and looking ready to retire
Sad faces, so many regrets, unhappiness and pace
This modern world shuts out all life, and grace
And like the walking dead, they shuffle on their way
Of only motion, only habit, time before decay
Feelings stifled in fear, in pain, in a silent scream
Because there is nothing here left, nothing to dream
I watch, a pale shadow, a ghost of joys gone by
Wish I could tell them to seek truth, not live a lie
And find that there is still time to live, to be free
In dying to self, rebirth, embrace life, let it be.
R'quémenchi / èrquémenchi - to begin again, to start over - *r'quémenchi / èrquémenchi* *Présent* j'èrquémenche tu r'quémenche i' r'quémenche ou r'quémenche j'èrquémenchons ou r'quémenchiz i' r'quémenchent *Prétér...
9 hours ago