Poem by Jon White


It’s a lonely Sunday morning, end of the week.
The day is filled with sunshine outside but you feel hollow on the inside.
How and why, you’re struggling with a reason to look forward to the evening.
Should I lay in bed all day and let time pass by?
What reasons is there for me to take care of my affairs?
All these thoughts running, running through our minds, not even the red stop signs of the mind can slow this unkind, unseen enemy that attack the consciousness making us feel hopeless.
This enemy is purpose.
See, some believe that their jobs, their families and lovers are the only things that give life purpose, any kind of true meaning.
Is the only thing that fuel our souls is that of the lives of others?
Ever thought that when we are born our lives already have purpose?
Of course it does.
We have much to offer even to those who don’t know us.