Life is strange… life is what we make of it!
Life is strange.
This sheer, shiny speck of information
evidently eludes my day-to-day,
Run off the treadmill..?
There, we seem to sit around, waiting,
for a miraculous, wayward waybill:
delivery of all our dreams’ fulfilment.
When the garden birds look at you
judgmentally, raising their curious eyebrows
as if to comment, competently,
on the ship Captain’s competency,
reluctantly, retrospectively, one becomes mindful
of the inferior content used to make your mind full.
Sometimes, there simply are
more questions than answers.
You’ve been wickedly wrung out
prodded, pushed, bustled, bulldozed;
left in the tumble-dryer by accident;
by mistake, and then, once again…
and then again,
all we have to offer is,
“Life is strange.”
© Annalinde Louw 2014
Sincere thanks to R.S. for being the topic-starter and one of my very few, very loyal readers. Thank you for all your input.
Thank you for taking the time to read my work. Any comments are welcome – I appreciate your input.
This piece was written on 12 June 2014