The Race

What is of this world so full of race

Our steps two instead of one pace

Some three to as much as accumulate

Fame and fortune a stifling haste

The sunshine to make hay, to make hay!

Horseshoes tied to the feet gallop ahead

Unknowingly trotted feelings of break

In the race to gain as much space

God’s bestowal of grace, this

very minute to taste

Savoured not the joy of time in this hurried chase

Count of the next and next second to brace

The imagined worst of fortunes to sway

A breath held too timid to exhale

The moments awareness, of fail to inhale

Lost the moment to the heavens escape

A moments loss is a loss of get away

Realms of search a hopeless waste

The natural self suppressed in the next moment gain

Of society’s expectations an act feigned

A showmanship lifelong an unrealised ordain

We to be blamed when feel not this instance of gain

The Now is the very essence of our life’s stay!
By Mariam Bee

Ipoh Perak