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Meaningless

Chasing after the wind

By Amy CarlsenPublished 4 years ago 1 min read
Meaningless
Photo by Ivan Vranić on Unsplash

The sun rises up and then descends down

The cycle repeats with no end in sight

Meanwhile my woeful soul is a ghost town

Abandoned and hidden in the cold night

I long for all the things I cannot taste

Each attempt leaves me feeling more undone

I have found that the pursuit is a waste

The wise or the fool - who has really won?

The toil, the striving - all to please man

Motivated by fear and left with shame

The same state of mind over a lifespan

What's the point if we all end up the same?

The tragedy of a life unenjoyed

A story that ends with my soul destroyed

sad poetry

About the Creator

Amy Carlsen

Seattle-based writer born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Left the field of engineering sales to pursue vocation in full-time ministry. Married to her college sweetheart, Tory, and loves being a mom to her Kindergartener, Cole.

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