Workin' On the Midnight Blues
By Mark Edgemon

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Workin' On the Midnight Blues
By Mark Edgemon

An evil abyss separates me from my purpose.
It denies me my rightful access to the labors I have chosen.
Invisible, yet there; crossable, but fortified against me by fear.
 
Fear of gain, of loss, of anything requiring movement.
For a prosperous, diligent man it is torment.
Easily penetrable, for it is not and yet it is there!
 
How to strike down the emotional barrier,
To scale above the heights we prerequisite for ourselves,
When all we must do...is believe and do!
 
The End

Go on to next poem by Mark Edgemon: Yielding To His Right of Way
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