Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

Downtrodden

My memory is hit-and-miss

It flies in and out like many

broken twigs on the forest floor

As I sit beneath a willow tree

I wonder where the divine is,

in the pattern of my life

I think He gave me the leftovers

and then washed His hands

I feel the blood of my ancestors

flow through my veins

They have no voice to guide me

I have no crystal clear thoughts

As to where my life should go now

Alone with thoughts that should not be entertained

when sitting on a ledge, those downtrodden thoughts

only last so long as the clouds are grey

When they part, blue skies shine through

I tell myself, this too shall pass…

©AnitaDawes2024

Quote of the Day… “This too shall pass…”