Array ( [sid] => 186540 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => There is No Limit - Just a Suggested Speed [time] => 2019-09-16 20:35:38 [hometext] => [bodytext] => It’s finally becoming obvious to me how careless I am.

It started with choices... just to see what would happen. Yet, so deliberate.

Careless with my love, my friends, my mind, my company.
Careless with my words, my thoughts, my humanity.

I’d prepare the alter. Placing the sacrifice on the very edge of height. Somehow, believing it would fly.
And inevitably, something did. Just not what I had thought.
The chaos factory, busy sleeting out distant exchanges.

There’s so much authenticity to what I do and who I am. I cannot fake that. We can spot a fraud a mile a while.

It’s our purpose that is weighted. The good we do. The good we get. The bad we do. The bad we get.
The balance of life. The scales. Of justice, solace, and remorse.

All of the great and wonderful things that we taste so brightly, and of course the other things, the unpalatable.

Such a greedy way of life. So hungry. Ravenous for more.

But, what is my purpose?

I was so certain until I was asked. My answer then, was that it’s not to be shared. It’s beyond me in place and time. It’s a steady beat and a call home. I’m to go and to do as called. I hear whatever battle cry. I’m gifted diversion. My seconds, minutes, and hours that I buy on this earth.

They are my purpose.

I am not of my own.

Lord, let my purpose be me. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 154 [topic] => 31 [informant] => Odessa19 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - There is No Limit - Just a Suggested Speed


There is No Limit - Just a Suggested Speed
Date: Monday, 16th September 2019 @ 08:35:38 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Odessa19
It’s finally becoming obvious to me how careless I am.

It started with choices... just to see what would happen. Yet, so deliberate.

Careless with my love, my friends, my mind, my company.
Careless with my words, my thoughts, my humanity.

I’d prepare the alter. Placing the sacrifice on the very edge of height. Somehow, believing it would fly.
And inevitably, something did. Just not what I had thought.
The chaos factory, busy sleeting out distant exchanges.

There’s so much authenticity to what I do and who I am. I cannot fake that. We can spot a fraud a mile a while.

It’s our purpose that is weighted. The good we do. The good we get. The bad we do. The bad we get.
The balance of life. The scales. Of justice, solace, and remorse.

All of the great and wonderful things that we taste so brightly, and of course the other things, the unpalatable.

Such a greedy way of life. So hungry. Ravenous for more.

But, what is my purpose?

I was so certain until I was asked. My answer then, was that it’s not to be shared. It’s beyond me in place and time. It’s a steady beat and a call home. I’m to go and to do as called. I hear whatever battle cry. I’m gifted diversion. My seconds, minutes, and hours that I buy on this earth.

They are my purpose.

I am not of my own.

Lord, let my purpose be me.

This poem is Copyright © Odessa19


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