Early Works - Emptiness

The sun rose this morning
to herald a beautiful day
the sky was blue
birds flew on currents of wind
but my mind has been filled
with confusion and torment
of which way to go.
I’ve looked at the horizons
and dreams of being there
to warm in the sunshine
of a lovely spring day.
Work is unfortunate
but has to be done.
It keeps us away from our dreams
our hopes and our prayers.
We’re trapped on a treadmill
where there seems no escape
from morning until night,
day in, day out,
year in, year out.
The only escape is a hole in the ground
eternal peace they call it,
but you know nothing
as nothing survives.

17 March 2003

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!