Journeys
Slipping from our feeble
hand,
fall thousands of grains of
sand.
Tumbling past our finger
tips.
Always on their own trips.
Guided by the hand of fate
towards our life’s final
state
upon this little blue
planet, this plane.
A journey leaving behind all
the pain
once felt throughout time,
inflicted,
lingering on, dwelled upon,
conflicted.
B. J. “A” 2
July 27th, 2021
