MORE IS TO COME

By Imogen Taylor

The bitterness arrives,

It’s though it never left.

The woman with windswept hair

Inquires the same aged questions.

The cycle repeats.

Rid the sequential,

Look towards the irrational.

Time doesn’t rewind,

Responsibility speeds the tempo.

You’ll be gone before you know it.

Is it ever too late?

The future is in seconds,

Perhaps you can improve?

Not for lack of labour,

Still, you wouldn’t know.

The polished turn grungy,

The pensive grow selfish.

Fate seems to evolve you

Into rejecting any change.

But nothing is unfeasible.

Are you still tired?

We typify intelligence,

Yet confusion wanes us,

Dwindles us under stress,

Now we lack caution.

Education teaches a balance,

Of avoidance and routine,

Of alcoholic alliances,

That serve the liver,

And sever the brain.

A compliment saves the day,

A book prompts a series.

A degree leads the path,

But people make your person.

Don’t reminisce integrity.

It isn’t what you expected,

But that doesn’t make it bad.

The beginning is compelling,

Yet routine becomes planned.

Do you explore beyond restraints?

When the conclusion arrives,

Submit it with pride.

Pursue people and career,

Don’t set the balance aside,

Because more is to come.