02 September 2007

Poem 6

Alone I walk,
Head held high.
Others pass, stare, talk.
Not about me.
But, about trivial things.
Books, tv, music, who's dating who.
What's it really matter?
All that is, superficial exterior.
Don't they know there's more to life
then what's in front of their eyes?
Don't they know the world is changing.
Spinning faster and faster.
Time passing by.
Don't they see it?
It's everywhere.
Time, seasons, people.
We're all changing.
Even me.

1 comment:

runnerfrog said...

You might walk alone in that poem :-) but you are cherished and loved, friend.