Having spent time in recent days amongst people from my past, has been the starting brick for todays poem. I have spent a couple of days pondering on the changes in mankind and what appears lost along the way.
With a drive to appear to improve with advance in time etc., one often all but destroys a fabric of our own being and also destroys a piece of what makes us special as mankind. There has been so much that is today frowned upon and also not welcome to be used today, yet the desire NOT to insult others has drives us as a species to levels that has to be lower than it ever was.
This is where todays poem has come into being. It is a poem that seeks to cause the reader to ponder what was lost and what the cost will or already has been. Have we as a species cast the baby out with the bath water in a drive to make improvements? Or have we slipped further downhill to avoid insulting parts of society that may or may not have experienced the real fabric of growth in life and what often makes us tougher as a species.
OR has all this just been something now worth letting down to HIStory. At times in composing poetry I may cause to insult some, BUT it is never on purpose but a cause to ponder.
Having said all of this please enjoy this poem.:
((The above photograph has been taken from an outside source, but displayed here with thanks, Copyrite still remians with those who carried out such work))
Untitled Series Part 13
Building bridges lost to another time,
Where youthful passions were ne’er worth the crime.
Games played entertained without pause to lose,
Time tracked on curfew without an excuse.
No divine right had ruled the state of play,
Empty the plate or close the gate to stay.
On course for journey’s through time and still score,
For lessons on life worth a million more.
When respect ne’er earned and given a must,
Beside the child thus running wild in dust.
There in trust the lessons grounded for life,
Folded intentions lost what was real strife.
For want of learning real in life, Reveal,
A bridge goes back in time to steal what’s real.
See the child thus cast with the bath water,
Together for the slaughter we taught her.
Lays here it’s demise forgetting the size,
Be thou wise seek to arise, see what dies.
Left or right to centre force this was lost,
The pit that mankind swims denies the cost.
© Pat Fitzgerald 2023
Thank you for reading this far into this post, It means a lot to me that folks read my work and enjoy them. Some poetry contain topics that may or may not contain issues that readers either agree with or experience or simply will disagree with. But still Poetry is a form of art work that I enjoy and thus using it in a manner to touch the reader.
My path through writing and publishing it on this blog is a journey beyond any expectations. So my thanks to you for joining me on this journey.
Poetry for me is a constant learning curve that I always strive to improve. Often due to the speed of my typing and a few other issues, mistakes and typos will find their way into published posts. I continue to work on improving this as I move along. My thanks for your understanding this.
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Until Next Time Cheers.
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