Poetry in Spoken Word by Tracy Kocsis - HTML preview

AIMLESS

All of my days,

I follow a script

I work and I sleep

I cling to promises

Of days yet to come.

I navigate the bounds

I occupy this space.

I breathe into a paper bag

As I run in this human race.

I pray to God to meet my needs.

I rehash old accordances

In the hope that one day

I will find the peace I need.