Blog Posts by michael gardner

  • A poets destiny

    He couldn't see his destiny,
    his future looked so bleak.
    Caught up in the world he knew,
    working week to week.

    The job, the bills, the daily grind,
    time his enemy.
    yet every night a poem he'd write,
    so all the world might see.

    The days went by, the months, the years,
    The joy and tears wrote out.
    A diary of hopes and dreams,
    in between love found.

    He wrote of bitter winters cold,
    and told of blazing suns.
    the stars at night and the moon so bright,
    The Father and the Son.

    He wrote of love of long ago,
    letting go and death.
    still he couldn't see his destiny,
    cluttered on his desk.


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