THOUGH we have illusions or perhaps delusions of how things will go

There are never futuristic answers that are given to know

Lives wander here, and it goes over there

But, honestly, there are no clear cut answers, to anywhere

 

And people have children to make them happy

Children are “supposed” to make all savvy

And promise elders they’ll keep their pappys’

And keep their mothers from pain and despair

 

And children grow to find similar truths

There is no heaven between them and youths

And the circle of living goes on and on

And children become elders from birth to yon

 

And what have we learned to break the cycle?

Of growing old from a babe of youth

Reaching something that we must learn

And what is it God, am I just frightened?

Of dying alone and being forgotten

Or leaving this body that I’ve reached few answers?

 

Oh, my children, life is short

Find the way, where I have not

And pass it down to the young, left here

That somewhere are our answers, precious dears

Beyond what we’ve heard and found in our past

God answers us when we’ve surpassed

The illusion and delusion that life is fair

It isn’t my children

And sadly, do not despair

 

Life is what it is

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first image was borrowed from wall images

The second I took

 

©2016 Bonnie G Jennings All Rights Reserved