A poem: agitated

All my life I’ve been agitated
Looking for composure.
The easing and loosening
The hopeful result is something I just couldn’t locate.
But maybe it was my forage
that set me miles apart
from nirvana, bliss, and sublime.
That’s what it is! Aha!
But Alas, it is not here
nor in any pharmaceutical
or any against the law medicine.
Not in my thinking
just lack thereof.
Too much i search in an apple tree
for apple cider
It doesn’t seem to be.
Whether authorized, or unsanctioned;
my felonious search, of something easily attainable.
Through my mudlark ways.
With insurance, I may find it
but not forever.
The pain just dulls me,
like the repetition.
I am awarded nothing but an addiction
it may be necessary
but most of all it’s realized within.
Within the search
The tree of life
which happens to have come from the same source
as me and you
if the Universe really started
with a giant clap, pop, snap, and a knock.
I said it may be necessary!
I won’t disagree with it
But maybe inside the temple
all the answers may lie
But I am unquestionably not to be saying
that you can ruminate out.

2 Likes

I hope you will keep searching and you will sometimes find what you are looking for.

1 Like

Great insight @Here4You

Although not mentioned in my poem

You hit on a great point

That happiness. Or “nirvana” as described in my poem, happens to be fleeting.

Regardless of what the source of it may be.

This topic was automatically closed 95 days after the last reply. New replies are no longer allowed.