The Life Not Lived

 

The sun that shines, never to bright

hatred lingers, dimming the light.

The grass that grows, never too green

replacing our sweat, with likes of a machine.

Our own tears, never fully cried

covering our pain, oh how we lie.

Birds that sing, only the same song

opportunities that have come and gone.

Ears that hear, only sentence fragments

routine, routine, are lives are stagnant.

Love felt, but never enough

despair felt, a little too much.

Kisses that end way too soon

embraces never, fully consumed.

Friendships had, but never wothwhile

as enemies to often begin to pile.

All this chaos where does it end?

As our lives of direct course approach a bend.

Hungry, unfilled, striving for goals

with an absence of life left in our souls.

Like giant ticks of spiteful adherence

we live our lives only partially experienced.