Thoughts Looking Back
by Michael Doyle

I do not want to say anything that isn't true
At least, that is, from my deepest point of view
I have lived my life in its living, and as a writer,
Often seeking to find life a little brighter

The first admission is that I have made mistakes
In seeking good, I often embraced my heartbreaks
Though I gloss it over through the traveled miles
There was a lot of horror and pain between the smiles

The mystery and miracle of language told it all
With the best moments spent from springtime to the Fall
It has sometimes been a hasty judgment of time spent
Though looking back, I'm mostly happy with how it went

I don't have the burden of being thought eminent
Almost nothing, if anything written, will ever be important
But still, I acknowledge a desire to be mature and wise
While knowing it's a childlike heart, seeing behind my eyes

With my own ears, I have found my words to be inadequate
Regarding important things for which I could not compensate
However hard it was that I searched for words to elevate
The discussions had less than desired as I would navigate 

The deeper moments mostly lived inside my enfeebled mind
Somewhere in the journey of a thousand hotels left behind
As I wandered the roads taken, repudiating all the things dead
That keep wandering the vacant hallways. left to explore and find

Binding me to all the clever things I didn't manage to say
Instead, barking into the night like a mad dog in a bad way
In the end, I'll be happy if I ever understand my childhood
Naming the names of the fields, lanes and unexplored woods

(c) December 15, 2023   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved