The Journey

The Journey

For, this journey man cannot predict
As we turned into time addict
Let me not traverse the journey of wrath
For, the shortest and fastest journey is death.

No one knows whence he will reaches
No time is late, no time is early
No speedometre does count fairly
All manners of problems do grind life to ashes.

Of em in the sick beds have hope
But of em in the grave crave dust
Thus, of all the moment of the earth try to cope,
Do not move before the hands of time, for things good as rust.

Cling and cuddle patience in all your journey
For, slowly, slowly goes this journey.

3 thoughts on “The Journey” by Uche Chidozie (@Senatorucheo)

  1. Jo (@josephoguche)

    Nice poem … Just wondering about the line, “No one knows whence he will reaches”

  2. You did good in this poem about life’s unpredictable journey and the unknown bus-stop we must alight at. However bear in mind that there is no law that says you have to rhyme at all costs. In fact, an addiction to rhyming has assassinated a lot of great poems.

  3. The journey of life…

    Destination? Eternity?

    Time will tell.

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