I write poems….

Walking a fine line between hate and love,
Often pushed and shoved, never concentrating on the light above,

Yearning for things which empty our soul,
Never quite finding our role, always putting the truth on hold,

Hungering for temporary bliss,
Relishing that one fleeting kiss,

Unable to clearly see through the murky mist,
Embracing the things we can’t resist,

Seduced by perfume and it’s lovely scent,
Life is defined by time well spent, not the moments we rent,

Unconditional love something few are willing to give,
Most settle for existing rather than doing the stuff required to live…..