Fruitless

A fruitless life one lives and perceives,
May be for many...
An actuality.

But how could that be?
When all that exists on Earth,
Is an experience of abundance and variety?
To all of this is an applied worth!

Whoever that is feeling useless and negative,
Have decided for themselves,
To await a process that has a more suitable fit.

And nothing will ever be suitable,
For one excusing a life gifted and given...
Just to sit and waste what one takes for granted,
To compare what is there without exploring the advantages.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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