A Ride On A Cloud Poem by Phillip Nine Mafunga

Then I lost touch of self
It was all but misty
The wind, the tempest
I float; aimlessly tossed about
Craving for all; craving for none
Finding comfort in none but the great vast
Wherein they smile; wherein they frown
Just strange how comfort and discomfort can exist side by side
A stench of death here; a pile of dead bodies over there
Well, as for me, for the dead I shall not mourn
But rather for lost souls, I shall
Is there ever any reason why I should grow old
Just to mourn the days of my wasted youth?
23 April 2023