Posted: October 27, 2013 in Acrostic
Tags: , , , , ,



Newborn, vulnerable, defenceless we begin our life’s journey.

Umbilical cord, severed, knotted, bound for physical solitude.

Toddling into teenage pubescence anguish, we blindly deny heartfelt truths.

Rebellious ingot, forged from the steel of independent self in the furnace of petulant certainty.

Insightful conception clasp when love-struck we flower: sexed, we weep at the birth of a child.

Testimony to our instinctive needs to dine upon the banquet of potential set out before us all.

Inclined to criticise, for knowing life in its many disguises, our knowledge alienates.

Old age affords use the mistaken harvest of false wisdom, abandoned on the fields of youth.

Nearing death, we nourish the soul with the only commodity worthy of human endeavour: Love.



© Paul Nichol    October 2013

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s