Poetry Corner: What Was Once A Chore

Doing not what was once a chore

I look out over misty hills of nevermore

The fire whines and cackles with no spell to cast

Left behind the world that demanded anything fast

 

No longer privy to the world of push and shove

Spectacular and glorious isolation I seek to love

Beyond my grasp this life I crave

While skeletons from my past drive me diligently to my grave

 

The tight bond of marriage; its warmth I feel

I think some days she got somewhat of a bad deal

The Reaper peaks over my shoulder

Even though she is the one that’s older

 

The tick and tock of time continue to burn

The hands on our clocks of life unceasingly they turn

Our lives we can both make and take

Our legacy can be more real than fake

 

The essence of our souls will one day expire

On this hurtling rock, our bodies one day will tire

Let us hope that life was not a test to pass or fail

If it is, at their result, many will cry and wail.

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