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Open Poetry #12
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walker
Member Elite
since 2001-02-11
Posts 2240
Florida

0 posted 2001-02-19 03:46 PM



This I wrote for friends, that quit their jobs because they were tired of projects and deadlines.

My project ends in my
hands. When I started
I saw no harm. Struggling,
it gave up the fight, while I
caused it to fall apart.
Blindly, I took on the task,
knowing that it could not last.
I had pressures from every end,
specially those from within.
I really strived for its sucess.
But eventually it became a mess.
My future depended on it, but even
destiny refuse to help. I shaped it
from its first breath, slow death,
I close the vent. Exhausted, now I must
stand, my project ends in my hands.


A quarter of a century must pass, for the writer to understand what and why he writes.

© Copyright 2001 walker - All Rights Reserved
ethome
Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858
New Brunswick Canada
1 posted 2001-02-20 05:25 AM


I know what you mean, a lot of pressure can be put upon the person doing the project. The only project that holds no pressure is the project that one takes on because they want to...a personal challange that they will enjoy......I enjoyed this read!

The poet is like a cocoon; in him the caterpillar of the past finds rest, and from him the butterfly of the future emerges.

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