Publishers

I write letters, cut cd’s,
mail parcels and let emails heap up,
but my words are blown away
like specks of sand in a gale.

I sometimes wonder
why feelings and life
can blind you for a time with hope
and if the haste for profitability,
lets merit die along the way
and if everything
has to be eaten by the power of reality.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!