The Verge of Tomorrow As I stand looking out On the verge of tomorrow, I'm filled with trepidation And with melancholy For what I used to be. Perhaps it is the coinciding Of this new era With my thirtieth year That makes me fear what's to come While yearning for The carefree days now spent. This can't be the end As the doomsayers boast. I've got so much yet to learn About who I am and what I have To offer to this world. Yet those I've loved and grieved, Perhaps this is my chance To hear their tranquil whispers, "It's alright." "We love you no matter." Instead of conflicting thoughts Ravaging my mind. To stare in awestruck wonder At the beauty of simplicity And know once more That being myself Is enough. I can't stop the ticking bomb That rushes life And quenches innocence. Yet no matter how This wordly celebration ends, Who I am right now Might be all that I'm Supposed to be.
Kathy Kehrli's Questions:
I struggled with the end of this poem. Do you think it sums up what I'm
trying to say? Is it clear that the possibility of the end is something
that I fear, yet also look forward to?
This is the first poem that I'm sharing and I would appreciate any comments or suggestions. Thanks for reading!!