Journey’s End by Maggie Barton

My life before me, here I do go.
Continually groping, controlling the show.
Blind to the outcome, scared to wit’s end.
Shamefully distrusting, trying to pretend.
Pretend that I have it all sealed up in glue,
Secretly knowing that I haven’t a clue.
A clue to my destiny, what is that I might say,
Not to be fathomed, so I go on with my day.
Can’t face the feeling, not wanting to trust,
So I just move onward, controlling the thrust.
Thrust to my destiny, contolled by my fears,
Not knowing what holds me, doesn’t seem what it appears.
Been sold a lie is what I do know,
Having lots of appearances, but not the real show.
All leading to sorrow, becomes the main trend,
So what is accomplished, at my journey’s end?

 Copyright 1999. All rights reserved.

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