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On to the Next One

So many paths—
No one right direction.
Slowing at last,
I've come to learn lessons.

Every single day that rises
I fear is my end.
Someone halt it all for a second;
Let me catch my breath.

On to the next
Stop—
On to the next
Block—
On to the next
Shop—
Life doesn't stop.

I've lived in fantasies
For way too long.
This world's reality
Is to never be loved.

We're slaves, ants to be
Burnt up.
Our graves are trashy things
Not picked up.

And when the magnifying glass
Does come,
Then, you'll know everyone
Moves on—

On to the next
Stop—
On to the next
Block—
On to the next
Shop—
Life doesn't stop.

Submitted: Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 25, 2013


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Comments about this poem (Be Nothing, Be Gone by Edwin Cordero )

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  • Lorraine Colon (10/26/2013 3:15:00 PM)

    Good poem; unfortunately, the lament of many of us. You expressed it so well.

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