Taught to focus. Trained to see.
Forgetting at times.
It’s really up to me.
Then comes a time.
When I cannot see.
Those who once
Meant so much to me.
They have their lives.
I’m not a part.
Their life always
Front and Center.
Mine becomes
A Note or Letter.
So busy are they
Someday they’ll cry and say:
I tried, I did,
It was just so hard to “begin”.
To connect and to call?
To rise and to fall?
Our time is near
Perhaps that’s the fear.
We have a lifetime
They have just days.
Each one passing;
Struggling in a maze.
We walked and ran.
We know the path.
They build and seek.
Focusing on success in a week.
They’re told every day.
Which direction is “the way”.
They listen and learn,
Till their ears burn.
The problem as always remains
Their focus is always the same.
Running after the "goal"
When it should be the door.
