What if for all my aspirations all of it gets lost,
All of it rotting and left corroding,
What if life suddenly fails and I find myself dying,
All that is worked for left buried in the grave
My journying beliefs of making a difference,
Of having a significance turning the rudder of history,
What if life suddenly fails and I find myself dying,
All that is worked for left buried in the grave.
Does this world filled with millions needs another voice?
Another hot shot belting out fumes of righteous calling?
I shudder to think that I have a place on this global platform,
When it all would come tumbling down like all mighty walls do in time.
Should I worry of making my mark amidst the many millions
Should I be more a pessimist, shutting down optimism
Should we all just see time pass by like many others
and give up the race of making a difference?
Oh I like this one very much, thanks! Not for me to say, but have you thought, at the end of the poem, of taking us back to the beginning? it’s like the last two stanza’s are the meat of the poem but then we have no way of getting back to that clear space, ‘…what if all of my aspirations were lost?’
Anyway, I like it.
kolembo,
Gee, i havent actually thought about that…I wanted it to start dark and somehow find some sense of direction even when all seems depressing but I was stuck, so it turned out ending about “will everything eventually be lost when wanting to make a difference…” that sort of feeling. But I like your twist to it…haunting. Thanks for the comment.