Sam373's Blog

On I must run,

Faster I must fly;

From where I come,

To where I go;

Your guess is as good as mine.

I may sound rude,

My words may be crude,

I would stop to explain,

If only I could

As to my destination,

Hold no reservations;

There is a goal

Which I must achieve

With no hesitation.

I run with the wind-

I fall with the rain-

I set with the sun;

Hoping to rise again.

I follow the shooting star,

Not knowing how many paths there are.

I challenge Old Man Fate,

Who claims all roads end in

Hate.

In my heart,

I look forward . . .

The beginning of love?

It surely can’t be hate;

I am sure I will be

Unavoidably late,

For I must stop

And take a mate.

Be assured,

I will re-enter the race

At the very next gate.

No longer must I tarry

No longer will I wait

For we have a race to run

Against Old Man Fate;

Me and my mate.

THE RACE

by

Sammie L. Carter

Copyright 5\25\1982 8:25 p.m.

~ by Sam373's Blog on December 9, 2010.

Posted in Poetry, Relationship, Socialization
Tags: Dejected, Feelings, Flowerchild Reject, Jazz, Love, Pain, Reality, Searching, Tears