'To Ride the Unicorn' by Martin Day
Long is the journey that starts in the cradle.
Dull is the lustre of life that is spoiled
Slowly we struggle to build that of value,
Just as we labour the garden we soiled.
Generations share it seems
The same mistakes, the same dreams.
One man dies, another born,
Both try to ride the unicorn.
Poor is the soul in the city of progress.
Rich the illusion of mankind’s advance.
More the distractions for us than forefathers.
Lessons of history traded for chance.
Mocked is the book that defines human purpose.
As was the rejected the one who inspired.
Left on the platform, if missed the connection
Wait in the cold ‘til the ticket’s expired.© M Day 07-Dec-1993