Thursday, 18 October 2012

  • Seasons of Me


    Colors of my season wither

    and fall around me.

    I see them leave to quickly

    and begin to fade long before their time.

    I look in the mirror

    and see myself withering

    and the colors of youth

    quickly fading away.

    Soon I shall be withered

    and my being will be forgoten,

    except in the sparkle of a blue eyes grand child,

    or great grand child living in their season.



     

Comments (39)

  • Sign in to Comment

  • Give eProps (?)

Who recommended?