What vision can we have, what purpose, goal
Or aim can we achieve when, all through life,
Half-blind & stumbling day-to-day in droll
Impersonations of ourselves- in strife
Too much to see the narrow strait that leads
Directly to the grave from cradle via
Satisfaction of far-simpler needs
Than we invent or think we should desire-,
Hoping like a drunken fool a heaven
Built for one & all exists, an end
At least to work & woe, or kind oblivion,
Welcome once again, our faithful friend?
They’ve paid my money, yet my choice
And vision are made by things of louder voice…
[20/1/2019]
L.A.Barron
