Feet pound on pavement,
Sweat builds on brow’s
Mental resilience is tested,
All for the sake of a few pounds.
.
The rush of addrenaline,
Of a post runner’s high.
Fuels planning for tommorow,
As our dreams sail high.
.
Daybreak is dark and stormy,
Whilst our beds are worm and cozy.
Where it’s easier to ignore our alarms,
Then find motivation to test ourselves once more!
Monday to Friday a slave,
Nine to give a corporate drone,
Piles of bills like cascading wave.
All a man’s got left is his home.
.
A lull life of grey hue,
Long days and monotonous queues.
A means to an end,
With a garden to tend.
.
Long days reach their climax,
With once more vibrant colours
When one can ignore a fax,
And sit down to his supper.
.
Home sweet home,
A man sits on his throne,
Weary to the bone,
With A smile pastered to his dome
When at last he is home!
I embrace the end of my long and arduous journey.
Traverisng through waves of grief,
Washing over me,
threatening to carry me away.
.
Through thick and thin,
Through sick and shit,
Against the odds.
We keep standing.
.
Suffer the pain,
Take the time.
A motto now engrained in our psyche.
Grief we greet as if an old friend.
.
With time the pain will ease,
Memories will fade,
But our burdens will remain.
Learn to live again,
Accept the past,
Embrace the future.
Tommorow is a new day
The dreaded fourth stage on a long path,
Tears are the words that need to be written
Sorrow melts the heart,
Incomprehensible sadness lenders one motionless.
.
Longing is the core of mystery.
In itself it brews the cure.
The one and only rule
Suffer the pain,
Take the time,
A Life sacrificed.
To be born renewed.
.
Time is the tonic to dread,
Memories collapse into the sands of time,
Life moves on, people forget, nature heals.
Suffer the pain, take the time, be born renewed.
Sitting in awkward silence,
Devices glued in our hands,
Waiting for our number to be called,
Helpless to fate.
.
Imaginations unravel uncertainty,
Fear fuels the fire.
Death is at our doorstep.
Writing our Wills as we wait.
.
Our name is called,
The doctor is met.
A simple virus diagnosed,
Life continues again.
.
The brain is a powerful beast,
Equally creative and destructive,
It must be tamed,
Or one will fall foe to its darkness.
Glued to devices,
We are slaves to our screens.
Separation anxiety,
Marketed into our brains.
.
Where once we spoke,
Now we tap.
Where once we met,
Now we swipe.
The art of speech traded away.
.
Man merging with machine.
Blended into one inseparable being
Is this an act of evolution?
Or something else entirely?
I sit alone,
Staring at their orders.
Refuelling stations for weary souls,
Admiring the healing nature of cafes.
.
I sip my black coffee,
Enjoying the bitterness.
Coloured like my soul
I stare into the watery abyss.
.
My hit points rise,
Along with my spirit.
Human company a rare treat,
To this tortured spirit.
.
Wallet drained, stomach filled.
I retreat to the darkness of my corner.
Alone I write better,
But I fear for what I have lost!
The StoryTeller