The in-between is always the trouble,

Each of us living in our own dream bubble,

Throwing stones in great glass houses,

Seeing what pain and sorrow arouses.

There are no boundaries to The Creator’s plan,

I’m made woman – you are made man,

Not that it matters what we are.

A wilting flower or a shining star.

Each one is important in The Creation,

With our perversions and deviations,

We are needed to guide life aright,

The end will be the stark telling sight.

When people proclaim they did not know,

The true way to live – to ebb and to flow,

They’ll swear that they were not even told,

That one day they would get very old.

On this journey and in this time,

It’s hard to see and harder to climb…

To try to make this life worthwhile,

Ever walking the longest mile.

Yet life begins with a single drop,

It grows until it reaches the top.

In between is always the trouble,

Life IS real… out of the bubble.

© The Secret Poetess

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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