My New Real Life

The heart is racing
My mind is drifting away
Life coming to the end of the road
Many things to do
The energy not there anymore
Living life to its fullest
Hiding the pain along the way
Dreaming of many adventures
Landing in the clinic for treatments
Oh, what I give to have the old life back
The new one brings many tears and fears
Once a strong and happy man
Now a run down and sad lad
Took walks to see the beautiful world
Struggle to just out of bed now
Where did the real me go?
Who is this new me?
The one who took my spirit away
Each day I look out the window
More gray cloud than the sun
Gloomy more than sunny
Oh to live again
To run free and breathe the fresh air
Now pulling the air that I breathe

by Michael Peterson

Other poems of PETERSON (170)

Comments (2)

A real spiritual seeker yearns for a sanctuary where he can experience a quiet without and within..... yes, it is. It is the essence of this poem. Beautifully crafted. Thanks for sharing.
The visionary expresses fear against the artificial cities of hard fortification, mortar, plaster, disquietude and wheeler dealers. In such cities the visionary lives in displacement. The true spiritual searcher craves a refuge where he/she can live with peace and tranquillity outside him/her and within him/her.