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I stand here with thumb outstretched
as the years speed by like passing cars.
Trying to hitch a ride on Life's Road,
for all it cares, I may as well be on Mars.
Relentless, never seeming to slow down,
the years pass me by like pouring rain.
And here I rot, the forgotten wretch,
standing on the kerb of Life's Road again.
Shivering and soaking, I turn to walk,
and the years fly past like hot arrows.
My steps trace a line toward the horizon,
beyond the point Life's Road narrows.
For Death, she will claim me as hers,
when the years stop, no more to erode.
The raw relief, release, too turn away,
and leave the madness of Life's Road.
© Pagan Paul (2016/2017)
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