To Speak of the Future....
Conor Blatchford:
The future isn't clear,
Don't assume failure is near
For the future is uncertain
So to speak, an Iron Curtain
Hidden agenda:
The question was 'To be or not to be?'
Even Shakespeare had a glimpse of doubt ,
For when he wrote a word of sea,
He always found a way to swim out.
So me calling myself a failure is a premonition,
On a future event so far in the distance,
That if I did succeed it would be a mere addition.
To lose is to win in such a cruel existence.
Example if your claiming victory,
Should you achieve it , you may bask in glory.
Yet if you don't achieve it, you have failed.
Then that would have been ship set sailed.
Conor Blatchford:
Ship set sailed it may be,
But failure remains unclear to see
No matter how hard ones tries,
Future sight-seeing is usually lies
Usually
Hidden agenda:
The green light is dimming and the orgastic future is gone,
Yet I still stretch my arms and carry on.
Simple as is , I know a failure to be made,
But I'm still working in hopes of getting paid.
Conor Blatchford:
Failure is always destined to be,
Yet mostly
Impossible to see
You wish to be paid from your mistake?
The only thing failure can rake
Is misery; emotion's most deadly snake
A snake with fangs
That does bite
Whence you give in
To this devilish sprite
You will lose
All you had
And never gain
What you desire so bad
If failure is certain,
Then so to is victory
Yet both continually
Elude me
This is the future
That I think I see
Another poetic conversation. We are good, my friend. We are good
