Temptation

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Temptation

No bars or restrictions shows I'm free
To choose what's right but out of reach

How do I get through these feelings
How do I get through these evenings

All senses show right where I am
This sense of lost all over again

Am I fighting the air, no one is there
No matter the choice would anybody care

This void inside, now Im not satified
No one knows, why am I trying to hide

Once it passed only to return
Twice as hard now it burns

Can't seem to run it rises with the sun
What use to be, is no longer fun

Stop before it starts, how could one know
Just knowing its there the feeling grows

The end to each choice is to blurry to see 
No matter the choice another breeds

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A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

messenger’s Poems (4)

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