What is time without days, minutes, or seconds?
What is the wind without air?
What is life without death
And death without honor,
Then honor without pride,
Pride without dignity?

Does it matter in the end
Who we are…
What we are…
At this moment…
Or can be
And become?

For we each return
To sadness
Which comes from anger
Evolving once again
To sadness
Like a carrousel

It all spins round and round
Till time has no meaning,
Until the earth has no life,
And the body is without breath.
Until the earth is finally and completely
Without air, without care.

Yet it all starts around again,
The endless carrousel,
Just one moment
After the other,
Repeated again.

So familiar
This unending way
Sunrise to sunset
One breath
And then another,
And another

Swirling between thoughts
Of the worthlessness,
The worthlessness of Life,
Of death, honor, pride, and dignity.
The pointlessness of the carrousel

(c) Bret Sears – 2010

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About poetryoftheasian

I've been writting poetry for only a few years as a little hobby, and have had a few published in a small poetry contest. I currently want to write more and improve as much as I can. Any tips or feedback would be much appreciated. It is possible that after a few weeks I will revise parts of some of my poems.
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