The Exchange (poem)

Each morning starts the beat of life’s routine

No longer matters one day to the rest

A part from sterile bleakness lack of scene

This haven that becomes a human’s nest


Soon after what is called the morning fare

He settles in his space the same old way

Some days he needs a hand in getting there

Small things one takes for granted cause delay


But once he starts what richness in his tide

With vibrancy paints all the world alive

His light frees confidence once lost inside

Inspiring dreams with power to survive


Beside this mind the rules of time can range

Still all things borne of earth some repose yearns

In sleep for now our fantasies exchange

To what tomorrow brings if he returns

Music only

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Comments 3 comments

JCvincent 13 months ago


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MizBejabbers 13 months ago

Who is he? I'm not the greatest at interpreting poetry, but the poem had a nice ring to it.

Gypsy Rose Lee profile image

Gypsy Rose Lee 13 months ago from Riga, Latvia

Really enjoyed this.

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    Martin Kloess (Mhatter99)596 Followers
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