Hopeless Cry

Tyrone Graham
Jul 20, 2017 · 1 min read

How often have you heard the hopeless cry
Of a pilgrim at what eludes his eye?
How often do you gaze up at the sky
And then look down again with a small sigh?
Too often? How often does a man try
To fathom the causes, the how and why,
And neglect what can aid him to get by —
Until it’s time not to live, but to die?
The urge that has caused you to climb so high
Is an urge that you cannot satisfy:
And if what you want should ever draw nigh,
Then even the springs of motion will dry.
Until you have the vision of a fly
You’ll tire of the ability to fly.

Other Voices

A sanctuary for orphaned poems and prose.

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Tyrone Graham

Written by

In the beginning was the word. And I got paid for it.

Other Voices

A sanctuary for orphaned poems and prose.

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