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 61 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!

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.

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