To live in the foothills of life
watching others climb the mountain,
is to have a lonely address.
Longing for the summit
but afraid to climb,
is a dream dying at birth.
The phobic wilt
in the glow of the strong,
hiding in the shadow of the brave,
guilty as charged;
yet who is to know
why the path through a door
is a step too far,
when dreams are full of courage
but panic locks the will.
Forgotton by the past,
ridiculed by ignorance,
the verdict is innocent and
the sentence is life.
Virtual life is a Godsend. . .
and all there is.
2 comments:
A poem which describes some of us well. What is it that held us back? Fear? Lack of confidence? Doesn't matter. Others have gone on to climb the mountain. Here we are still. But now, time has moved on leaving us to wonder, and again ponder, your poem.
basefare.
Thank you so much Bill. In this instance I was thinking of agoraphobia and the awful effects it has on people who suffer its extremes but it certainly describes the lost opportunities we all accumulate as life passes.
So good to hear from you,
Pamx
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