People from different walks of life some believers

some are fakers

some are cynics

while others are hopeful

but most just see with

their eyes closed

Looking at the man that stood infront

Of his strong stature

And powerful words

Listening

Of his agendas

and empty promises

Though blood related

can't help but feel pity

For those who believe

Coz' their just too blind

To see all the

Real actions from behind

You kept telling yourself you're a fighter

a warrior

a soldier

gladiator

But all you have is glass as an armor

Easily broken

Cracked

Fractured

You say you don't really care

Passive

Apathetic

Emotionless

But just one word you stumble

Totter

Crumble

and Fall

You kept on ironing out

things for them

But you always just

end up

With black

burnt holes

The soles of my feet is throbbing

And the exhaustion is starting to cave in

Walking in these shoes that doesn't seem fit

Yet I insisted,

because pride got the best of me

I have tripped on this journey

Might've broken my ankles too

But I kept walking

coz' that's what I said I'll do

On the rocky bumpy street

I held my head high

and hear people round' me sigh

Then slowly I couldn't help but wonder

Where am I willing myself to go?

Why am I letting myself suffer?

Is it because I wanted to prove a point?

Because I know deep inside it was just all about pride

What contrivance is this that these two sisters born of the same mother do trick me so.

When I wore a younger man's clothes did I not consider myself master of both and stride through deepest dark with nary a thought for trip nor trick.

Or did take my ease in the full face of day and revel in her bright glade, and care not for time nor tide.

Yet how pass the years that leave me to stumble through both, with failing eye and trembling hand, to cry in alarm at every turn.

Cruel sisters are they not?

Emotions

took up all the energy

Dehydrated

As tears dried up every inch of your body

Memories

Are lullabies to your sleep

And Hope

For tomorrows ease

The sun has long sunk and night is upon me and I sit in despair and wonder what will be.

I worry for change, I have seen too much change and I know that change means having to adapt, and adapting takes energy. I don't have energy to spare that can be used to adapt, I need it to write.

So Prose is about to change, and already this change means I cannot post to challenge, which for me is a negative, I just hope that I can adapt to that, and that enough of the Prose I love remains so that I can continue to write and post here.

I intend to maintain my writing schedule, though where it will end up I cannot say. I just hope that when Prose has finished changing, there's an ounce of the Prose I love left for me to continue this love affair.

Should it change beyond all recognition then I must go and find another Prose that suits me and my simple style, though I would much rather remain here.

So many questions parried.

So many questions asked of me that I cannot answer. Come on let's get it over with. Make this change so that we can see what is what.

I wish that I was someone else

someone lucky by chance

or just somebody

that had another life

reborn clean and new

unaffected by life's tricks

I wish that I was someone else

maybe some young lover

awakened by that first kiss

or some brave explorer

stumbling across some

new species of butterfly

I wish that I was someone else

perchance a wealthy man

with servants hanging on

the slightest wish

anyone

except myself would do

Now I'm a simple honest man

And neither this nor that

I try to be the best I can

And call a cat a cat

The sky to me is simply blue

And I say grass is green

Things can be just another hue

The way they've always been

But modern trends do leave me cold

I just get so confused

Perhaps it's just that I'm too old

Or my brain's overused

When they say red is the new black

They make me stop and think

I'm really taken quite aback

It dries up all my ink

And then I heard that green is blue

And grey is the new pink

My eye test must be overdue

My palette's out of synch

I'm out of touch and feeling blue

I need a cup of tea

My senses need an update too

I'm just too old you see.