Here's a poem I wrote, and it really sums up a great deal of whatever it is inside me... not sure how else to describe it. It's rather personal, and it helped quite a bit to write it out.



Looking back on all these years,
The sadness, strife, and troubled tears,
Furrowed brows and half clenched fists,
Tired old men are made of this.

But it makes a man, these years of rift,
Character builds from years adrift,
And eventually we find our way,
Waking with purpose each day.

As life goes on we remember the past,
Hidden in weary memories which last,
There are pearls, happy days, life was right,
And it's on those days we must keep our sight.