As I gaze upon the large blank space
the page appears to be so intimidating.
I'm well aware that writing isn't a race
but you always dread finishing nothing.
There is a clock, and it's ticking everyday
as our lives are not going to last forever.
One day we'll croak and many often pray
we didn't leave incomplete endeavors.
Unfinished business is genuine fear
to leave this world with work undone.
We make fair goals for each pending year
working hard, trying not to seem overrun.
When we die things are bound to be forgotten
so getsome made before you're in the coffin.
YOU ARE READING
Sonnets
PoetryA collection of poetry written in a specific rhyme pattern. I hope you enjoy reading these sonnets as much as I did writing them.
