Poem by Gaudys Laxury
Feeling so out of place…out of mind, body and soul; too young to roll in the big leagues, too old to play with dolls. More than a quarter of a century has passed; along with the drama and heartache – an improvisational thespian cast.
The frustration of not moving forward…go, go, go! Always feeling like it’s in reverse – it truly blows! Six months has past, a year, two, three, four…well we get the point; but no one tells you that time flies so fast, no advisement, not even a checkpoint.
No this is not your typical inspirational poetry, but an ode to the cymbaltic; a moment for venting, screaming, shouting and all that dark logic. Save the hugs, the faith, the prayers as life is at a standstill; nothing seems to be progressing, it’s an unbelievable downhill.
And then there is that ‘to hang out with anyone, just to hangout’ mentality; but when deep down inside you’re yearning for stability. What is age but an idiotic definition of time; a sublime stupidity, an excuse to contest a long hard climb?