How sad is life


How sad is life
that doesn’t end.
An eternal strife,
it is, my friend.

How sombre is
that breath we take.
Afraid to miss
and to awake.

How happy faces
bring us tears.
These hints and traces
of our fears.

How silence brings
that cry within.
It hurts, it stings
beneath the skin.

How near and far
our path may go.
How lost we are,
we’ll never know.



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7 responses to “How sad is life

  1. or beatitude-inal? Your poetry is real, refreshing. This poem studies the boundaries of what life is, rather than the frequent muse of “why” life is, which is incidentally almost always answered by “how” we got here. Your poem touches neither, but carefully structuring the reality of those things beyond time, screeching into the immortality of the soul – painfully discovering that time is an illusion and we are but the total of our fears and pain itself. – And beautifully intertwining how such things must be hidden under the skin. A very well written poem that resounds with me intimately. Odd that it rests above another, equally absorbing yet contradictory poem titled “One Life is Not Enough.” Was that incidental? Or intentional?

  2. Insightful! You are right, we’d never know how lost we are.
    Thank you for stopping by my blog and liking my recent post.

    Kind Regards,

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