I stumble and stagger down life’s bitter road;
Burdened and weary from my heavy load.
Clouds of dust mark my path,
I taste the fury of The Grapes of Wrath.
Desolate and bitter I carry on;
Striving and struggling for whatever lies beyond.
From sunrise to sunset I trod my path alone,
Aimlessly searching for a place to call home.
Sweat streaks down my face soaking my neck,
Fatigue overwhelms me and I am short of breath.
Exhausted I stagger; walking on dead feet,
Plodding slowly to whatever in life I shall meet.
No longer able to walk I sit and rest,
Patiently waiting to be taken by death.
Once in its embrace bliss I shall find;
As the wearies of life are erased from my mind.
By Matthew Smith
See all poetry for Matthew Smith #B86629