Drifting - Kit McCallum
12:25 Jun 04 2006
Times Read: 544
I sometimes find I'm drifting
Through this life without effect;
I often wonder if I'm truly
Worth what I've been blessed.
I search through days that have been hard,
To try to understand,
The many trials that I have known,
The life that I have had.
You see me in my daily grind,
So confident and strong;
Yet when I am alone, I question
Just where I belong.
I often try too hard I find,
To analyze and guess,
To scrutinize, investigate
My life I will confess.
For somewhere deeper, there must be
Some meaning to this life,
Some way to make a difference,
Give a reason for this strife.
Is there some hidden meaning?
Some agenda to be found?
A greater purpose waiting
If I care to hang around?
It teases and it taunts me,
Always slightly out of sight;
A hazy vision out of reach,
Where darkness hides the light.
I struggle to bring clarity
To what awaits me there,
And yet this weak illusion
Always fades before my stare.
It seems the harder that I try,
To focus through the haze,
Just serves to add more questions,
Through my endless, tired gaze.
Perhaps I'm trying just too hard,
To understand it all,
For can we ever truly know
Just what we have in store?
Each incident, each moment passed,
Just adds upon the next,
But in the end, will I find truth ...
Or will I be perplexed?
Perhaps I make it harder
Than it has to be sometimes,
But will my searching bring to me
My meaning over time?
Or will it leave me broken,
And confused as I feel now,
While questions bring no solitude,
To this, my wrinkled brow.
Seek Not My Heart - Kit McCallum
12:23 Jun 04 2006
Times Read: 545
Oh gentle winds 'neath moonlit skies,
Do not you hear my heartfelt cries?
Below the branches, here about,
Do not you sense my fear and doubt?
Side glistening rivers, sparkling streams,
Do not you hear my woeful screams?
Upon the meadows, touched with dew,
Do not you see my hearts a'skew?
Beneath the thousand twinkling stars,
Do not you feel my jagged scars?
Seek not my mournful heart kind breeze,
For you'll not find it 'mongst these trees.
It's scattered 'cross the moonlit skies,
Accompanied by heartfelt sighs.
It's drifting o're the gentle rain,
A symbol of my silent pain.
It's buried 'neath the meadow fair,
Conjoined with all the sorrow there.
It's lost among the stars this night,
Too far to ease my quiet fright.
No gentle winds, seek not my heart,
For simply ... it has torn apart.
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