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POETRY

Marveling at the vastness of the open field,
With the wind in my hair,
And my body aching from being strong willed,
Even when I was a liar,

Regretting old mistakes,
That chiselled me,
Tried to burn the stakes
That could desiccate me,

Train of thoughts of battle fought,
Many won and a few lost.
Of the victory bouquets got
But the brickbats had me frost.

A memorable morning,
A wasted afternoon.
Now in the twilight of my life ring,
All coming so soon.

After life's long tiring quest,
I thought I could sit and rest,
With old friends and jest.

But all I can do best
Is to puff up my chest
Correct all the mistakes I made first
Clean out the hornet's nest
But if there is no zest
There is sure to be a bloody sunset.

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Reader's Note

This is my entry for day 27 of a 100 days of poetry challenge organized by @d-pend, supported by the steemit school, which you can join here;

https://discordapp.com/invite/hyfYQ9P

This poetry was inspired by the words of a old man I saw yesterday, regretting not putting all he had when he had the ability to do it.

• I am a beginner.

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By @adebayopaul