what my head contains

from days and on

our lives, lives on

our tragedies push through

our glories breaks through

we bare our pain and

be ready for the next day.

we see our lives as

though they pass by.

we set our goals and

ready our souls

for glory or tragedy

or whatever that may

fall.

in this story that we

ourselves play… we have

no clue what our future

may bring.

in this story that we

ourselves play… we have

but little control on the

outcomes that we make.

This entry was posted on Monday, February 6th, 2006 at 12:32 pm and is filed under poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.