Alone
We have found ourselves
Alone
Without loves or cares
Alone
With the thoughts of the wicked
We cannot take the future
Why can't you understand?
I cannot take the uselessness
The future brings us by the hand
Fear
Of ourselves, our friends
Fear
That we'll make amends
Fear
Of what our lives will bring us
We don't know where we're going
But it sure as hell won't be there
Where fear is made a virtue
Why can't see see the bright white light ahead?
The sound of the bell to bring out your dead/
We want to win, to take our place
Out in the front to win the race
To seize the day in every way
'Til there's no turning back from play.
This is a collection of the poetry of Troy Camplin. As each poem is always a work in progress, comments and criticisms will be taken into consideration, and changes, perhaps, made.
Monday, February 22, 2021
Alone/Fear
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I appreciate all constructive comments.