They steal our life, yet not guilty of theft
We beg the heavens for a purpose
But are left, directionless
Our lives are a circus
We possess
No wherewithal to protect
Precious minutes and seconds
Become our clefts
Near flytraps, a false sense of security
We the insects that fly in obscurity
With no reason to suspect
why we are here on this Earth
And at last, finally take a deep breath
Relieved to not have to search
Our answers not found in church
Does it mean, our lives were any less?
At least we get to feed the trees when they bury us dirt
About the Creator
Jeffrey Sparks
Adversity is kindling I choose to burn to keep my hands warm in winter ensuring my words will stretch beyond the years that turn my bones to dust.
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