The Bend.

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


I wrote this while listening to a dreamy tune by the name of 11:03 by *The Red Pears*. A beautiful piece, maybe so beautiful it deserves home on a USB stick…

Submitted: May 11, 2018

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Submitted: May 11, 2018

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I often think about what’s around that upcoming bend.

Will it be Joy? Sadness? Pain?

Hell, it could be the End.

 

However, I, occasionally we, push on.

Despite lacking an understanding

Of what could be, come next dawn.

 

It can bother me.

 

Will the weave unravel?

Will the path split?

Will our hearts forfeit?

 

My focus is caught, desiring a glance.

The rocks beneath my feet slip.

I lose my stance.

 

A once tight lock loosens out of place.

Regret pains me.

As I slip down the face.

 

If only I had known.

My focus was looking everywhere for stability.

Everywhere but home.

 

I often think about what’s coming around that upcoming bend.

Wondering what could be. Will it end?

Then again, I realize, why need the future

When I have a godsend.


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