GOODBYE?

I often wonder about the things I write, 
As though the ideas come at night.
When I look at the the one's I writ,
Some come from my imaginary Id.

A few are soft and kind,
While others blur the line.
A few are weary tired of strife,
Remnants of a forgotten life.

Half-baked ideas struggle through my head,
Remembering the exquisiteness of what was said.
The procrastinator of my bemoaned life writes,
Wondering what stops fancies from taking flight.

With all the places my mind takes me,
Always striving to be free.
With a weary thought I give a sigh,
Maybe my time in poetry passes by.

My life to me feels like a living hell,
Should I carry on writing time will tell.
With a heavy heart I wonder why,
I feel this is my time to say goodbye.



Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 171 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2022-06-30 at 00:30

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Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
Your poem has been chosen to be featured on the home page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting on our poetry website!
2022-07-04


arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
Why goodbye? Perhaps there is someone out there that needs to read what you have written and would not if you hadn't. Of all the creatures on this planet, we are the only ones that can leave this legacy. In the end it is a choice we make as well. And though we'd rather you continued, that decision is quite yours to make. Please stay.
2022-06-30


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
One of the joys in my day is looking forward to, and reading, your poems.
2022-06-30