The snail struggled under heavy load;
Each worry he would carry, and they weighed.
Mounting worries weighed him down, so he slowed;
He worried he would not get far today.
The added worry left him feeling grey,
But he knew, as snails do; life goes on.
So he mustered all his strength and he prayed,
And he slithered til his energies were gone.
When he woke, he was tired, bright sun shone;
And his friends, they had gathered by his side
They all thought that their grey-tired-friend was gone,
So they cheered as he opened up his eyes.
They shared his load between the many friends;
This is where his story starts, not ends.
As I sink into the dirt
But the struggle makes it hurt
I breathe my last
And settle in the mud
Wrapped in sinew, dirt and blood
By my own hands
I wrestle my own grip
Until I grab
Too hard too long
And from this world I slip
By Lyra (6) please leave her some feedback if you have a moment. She worked hard on this.
Evening falls swiftly
Light to dark in short moments.
Was the face he saw his?
He no longer knew,
The bits that he recognised
Seemed very few,
Between angry raised spots
And through tufts of a beard
There were glimpses of him,
Though he felt and he feared
He was no more the same person,
He’d changed as he aged
And his mind and his body
Weren’t on the same page
Could this face of a man
Be the face that belonged?
He thought of his childhood
And for those days longed.