Photo from Pixabay
A poem written in a lighter vein. No hidden messages.
Morning started with the aim to move forward,
Opened my cell phone and started whatsapp.
Floodgates opened with messages forwarded,
Everyone seems to be in a rush to share and educate,
What a treasure trove of repeats, must be weekend,
Decisions, decisions, to read or to be deleted.
Before I knew it hours passed reclining in bed,
Sore thumbs and nature’s call made me sad.
Oh, why did I open whatsapp, my bad.
Goal of moving forward, messages forwarded hijacked.
They are gone now
The old ones
They look down at me
From the framed photographs
Walls are adorned with them
My eyes are weak now
When I look up at them
I do not see wisdom anymore
But the message is clear
One day I shall have my place
A lifeless framed photograph
Someone may look up at me
As I look up now
And hear the words of wisdom
Spoken many moons away
Don’t waste your precious time
Once gone, won’t come back
What am I doing now
This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Three