Nothing Last Forever

Beauty fades away along with time,
All comely face becomes wrinkle.
The body and shape that mesmerized
will soon be no more irresistible.

Roses that bloom, charming the eyes
end up withering and got trampled.
The beautiful dress you bought last time
was under your leg cleaning your foot.

Time flies! As the matter of fact,
dragging us along to breathe our last.
We want it or not, we can't deny it.
We'll follow it like captive down the track.

The life we live while we're young
grow with us to get us judged.
It wait for us where we are not
expecting it to strike at all.

Rich or poor, black or white,
Life doesn't know what your colour is.
Blind or dumb, able or paralyzed,
What matters is how you are living.

Money is good, love is romantic.
Are we still implying them properly?
Whether or not, time is counting,
waiting to reveal all we are hiding.

We're born to live and then to die.
Where does life go when breath halt?.
The choice we choose while we're alive
carries on our names when we're gone.

Author's Note

Just took another break from work to post this.
Hope you are doing well.

What's your take on this?

Reviews

[Donna]

Straight to the point! Very real! I like it very much!

[‘Thoughts In Time..]

Yes nothing last forever except the word of God remains the same forever ,🙏🌹🙏

[Robert Trakofler]

wow, this is very clever Kay! your evolution of write is really blooming I haven't seen one of your pieces in a while. Good to read you I couldnt agree more with your penned intents

[.]

Where does life go when breath halt... What a beautiful line. Yes life is ephemeral and so does everything that is attached with it... Only good work, smile and memory remains alive when we will be gone... So we have to strive to make it beautiful and meaningful... A very nice poem

You are the one who reviewed my poem first, so my gratitude will follow your every poem

[.]

# first reviewer of my poem in this cafe:)

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree Kay.
"Rich or poor, black or white,
Life doesn't know what your colour is.
Blind or dumb, able or paralyzed,
What matters is how you are living."
The above lines are true. In the end. We will find hell or heaven and carry nothing with us. Powerful and worthwhile words shared my friend.
Coyote

[John the Baptist]

The poem verifies an ancient truth: All is changing, and neither good looks nor a fat checking account will change that. The poet doesn't state this as an example of tragedy, though. It's just the way it is in the material world. The question of a life beyond is allowed to remain a question; the way we live our lives while we're here is the most important thing.

[Chris Shaw]

Quite a few points to ponder on here Kay. If we loved and were loved in return, hopefully we will be remembered when we pass. If we showed kindness to others we maybe remembered, but wouldn't it be wonderful to be remembered for something we wrote. All good wishes.

Chris

[barleygirl]

I agree with your overall message. Looking at the way other people read so much into everything that happens, it's as if some believe there's a God who's doing mean things for some reason they haven't figured out yet. To me this is a waste of mental energy. Life is just life. S**t happens, so the old saying goes. Your poem is a more graceful, impassioned way to say "s**t happens". There's an ongoing note of melancholy, barely detected, as if this narrator is SAYING to accept life as it comes, but in fact, this narrator really has not fully arrested his/her sense of being a bit plowed down by life. As if the narrator is trying to convince him/herself that life happens, it's nothing personal, while taking it a little bit personally. This is very realistic for the way most people try to accept life, but their true deep-seated disappointment still glimmers thru a little bit (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Since I don't see you posting stuff too often, I'm glad you RR'ed me on this -- I forget everyone I'm friends with & I want to wish you a holiday season that's safe & healthy & full of love & good spirits!

[Kari Rakitan]

While it is not pleasant to think about these things, it is important to remind ourselves every so often.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we will be remembered for our choices, maybe for our poetry...
we are the voices of our generation...
and we get old...I still have such fond memories of my youth...of dating in high school...the pretty girls who now are old and may carry their looks more on the inside than the outside...
which really matters at my age.
the wisdom accrued...the what if's...the thank God's....
absorbed in your poem, I became.
thank you,
j.