PoetBay.com, the poetry webpage where you can publish your poems and short stories

The highway to hell is pathed with potholes

Some dreams are not,
Worth letting go.
Even so we deem it so,
We should learn to cherish.

The things that make us smile,
Before we breach that golden mile.
To walk in disbelief and sorrow,
Before we we find ourselves tomorrow.

Longing, yearning for what we could be,
Without ourselves we could never be free.
It is as it is so I continually draw breathe,
That life should never make you feel bereft.

Remembering there are steps to heaven,
With a highway to hell even so.
My mind knows which way the traffic flows,
With each breath I take, to reach that goal.

My thoughts go backwards to where I begin,
To find myself within a forgotten dream.
To be alive again or so it seems,
The need to explore my thoughts once again.

Then again I begin again as my mind bumbles,
If there's are escalated steps to heaven.
For if not I'm sure my wonky leg's would stumble,
As for if you were on the highway to hell.

How would you tell, On any given day,
I'm sure that there would be potholes all the way.
Then again if stammer gets his way l suppose,
By the time I get to heaven all the toilets will be closed.

Poetry by Alan J Ripley