Aestival Err Poem by Arik Fletcher

As each year passes down the line,
We fail to heed each warning sign,
Forever doomed to work this mine,
Enslaved by chains of our design.

The future lies ahead to find,
Alas our eyes are stricken blind,
No hope to leave the dark behind,
Caught in the maze within our mind.

As time wears on we all must tire,
Hands and heads both still perspire,
Each dream we hold lost in the fire,
Frustrated souls caught in the mire.

Once more we all must play the game,
As fingers point out who to blame,
Deflecting guilt at each new name,
With no remorse and without shame.

As shadows shift and faces change,
We think back to a time less strange,
Before life had to rearrange,
A fantasy we can't derange.

The days ahead are far from sure,
As words and deeds are seldom pure,
With age we still are not mature,
And luck will never be the cure.