There is a reason why we can’t reach the sky;

It walks in hand with the reason of why

We can’t hear who is meant to speak to us,

As well as see whom we are meant to capture.


I will always be roaming around this place

Wondering why I can’t touch the earth’s core

When the earth can so greatly shake mine.


Maybe we need to believe in the gold at the end

Of another aspect of life deemed unreachable

There is valid points to which we may not see God

It may only prove he ceases to exist.


You know I could really use a certain type of person

But it comes to no surprise that it is out of my reach;

I guess I should place my hands together and phone God.


How would my words even fathom that travel?

How would his ears I have never whispered in

Even process my severely desperate pleas?


I sometimes still have the hopes of those chills

To get on the very day when at once I will hear

Exactly what I was meant to, delivered in a voice:


Out of a place labeled no where

On time labeled some

In a manner that speaks forever

There is no sadness here.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed