The Blurring Screen
The blur of the screen in front of my self,
What an image of living it represents,
I cannot see more than shades of the trees,
The same is with life and the trials it presents.
Is there a turning point or will we crash?
Is there a way through or will I crumble?
How can any man judge, no matter his years,
What is ahead of him or what made him stumble?
Where can man turn when he is in need?
If the answer is known they are sehr wise indeed.