Massena, NY USA
I sit and listen to rustling of the leaves,
Watching them role and crinkle along the road.
I think of a time when life was so simple,
Me, a leaf being lifted and carried with the wind.
Not having the decisions that rest within my arms now,
Being able to enjoy even the simplest things:
Weekends, Sleep overs, getting a new pair of sneakers.
Time has been altered,
It is now one of lifes most difficult chores.
Needing to work around it,
Find “time” for things.
As a kid,
Time was no object,
Never looked at a clock,
It is now the enemy,
It feels my angst and despair.
Showing no mercy for its victims.
Ticks on as if we were nothing at all.
Am I the only one who feels this pain?
Given my capabilities,
I still face the world with a frown.
Losing my rhythm,
My reason to exist.
I search for a new motive,
I hope I am correct.
This is just a question for anyone who reads this: Is it wrong to look for a relationship? I find that most of my poetry comes from either my hope for relationships or lack of; It seems that I spend most of my free time looking for something great, I know it is somewhere, we all do. Any feedback is great to hear. ~Chad