Cold pensive forsaken,
walking thru wet streets.
Poise of a dancer,
soul of a king,
heart of a pauper,
dreams like a child.
Seeking and searching for meaning,
meaning of what life’s purpose is,
was, or will be.
Contemplating one’s destiny or one’s end,
keenly awaiting the new year,
yet reminded of love not yet found.
Breathing each cold breath,
exhaling purpose into the atmosphere.
Empty dreams lingering without a particular owner,
reminiscing of past times both good and bad,
hoping and yearning for good fortune.
Striking each step with dominance,
optimistic of the track to come.
About the Creator
Patrick Manos
Creative writer and poet creating moving masterpieces that capture an audience by revealing genuine raw feelings combined with passion. I am a registered nurse that has worked with both adults and pediatrics. My life journey has shaped me.
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