Tally

poem by: John Prophet
Written on May 21, 2020 

Scars of
battle.
Earned.
Battlefield
riddled.
Riddled with
warriors.
Warriors
of life.
Grizzled
veterans
campaigns
being fought.
A slash,
a gash
hidden from
view.
Scars of
existence
building in
time.
Wisdom’s
cost,
high.
Smile,
new recruits
enter the
fray.
Fresh faced,
untested
cocksure
nonetheless,
dismissing
the rest.
What can
they know?
How sure
could
they be?
Fresh faces
and green,
now entering
the scene.
Wave after
wave.
Time after
time.
The games
now begun.
They enter
the battle
expecting the
best.
Life’s battles
rage on.
Scars
pile up.
Warriors engage.
Scars
pile up.
In the end
 results
all the same.
Wisdom’s tally
Is high!

 

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