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Should it come to an end, never to remain

My world, restricted, again and again

A finite place, I have come to loathe

Trapped by limits, naked, unclothed

Living inside of me, a place to call home

Colorful nights, in vibrant monotone

Watching the shadows, creep in with a smile

Knowing they won’t last more than awhile

Yet, I still have this time, should I complain?

As I listen to the infinite, whisper in vain


The Daily Post – Finite

©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0