Poem - Moving On
Upon my bed
I lay
Restlessly
Turbulent nights
Past
Fear of what is to come
What is to be confronted
Grief stricken by what is to be let go
What would be left behind
The devil's hand
Contorting the sinews of my heart
Stealing for the lonely breath
But alone I am not
Was not
Will never be
The dynamism of life nudges me forward
Yet cruelly it chains me from behind
Hard to let go
Of the life you know
Of friends made
Laughs had
Lovers found
And lovers lost
Which you have to forego
At the end of the money trail
A pot of gold there is not
Never was
Be glad for that which is found
And despair not
For that which is not meant to be