Restless Poem by Ian Keenan
Restless
Somewhere,
Underneath it all,
But I can't get there,
So here I sit,
Depressed.
Were I able
Then all would seem
Better,
Something bigger
And brighter
Than my moods
And concerns.
But I cannot,
However much I
Dig,
And though I feel
It stirring,
I cannot reach.
One day I will,
Then whatever
I will be free,
But until then
I sit,
Worrying about most things,
Restless for lightness
And flight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/7/2024 12:38:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A bit of a tortured soul feel about this one, a bit darker than some of his others.