The Battle

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The Battle

Man rowing in a river.
I am the wreckage

Of the person I used to be,

Smashed on the shore

Of bitter experience.

Where once was youth

Now stands monstrous old age.

The downturned mouth

Of disappointment looks on

As the upturned one,

Once gloried in expectation.

Crushed between

Past and future,

I limp through the present.

They call me dead

But my life struggles on,

Despite the pain of failure.

Those who would challenge me

Forgets the endurance

That drives people like us on,

Until death finally arrives

And shakes my hand

Like an old friend,

Long unseen...
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