Skip to main content

dry and brittle


dry and brittle

As the pages of life turn dry and brittle,
I wonder how so much or how so little.
How’ve the days just passed me by?
What about what I did and didn’t try?

How I’ve lived and how I’ve died,
truths I’ve lived and lies I’ve lied.
How’ve the days all slipped away?
What about lost nights and days?

Loves I’ve loved and loves I’ve lost,
heads or tales, the coins I’ve tossed.
How’ve the days of loving ceased?
What about the loves released?

Roads I’ve traveled near or far,
wishes forgotten, upon a star.
How’ve the dreams all gone astray?
What about the long, forgotten way?


© 2013 ajwrites57
A Long


If you enjoyed this poem, find more here.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

old friends

old friends searched online for former friends surprised to see untimely ends friends, their spouses, moms and dads sad to see the deaths they had the inexorable tick and tock of time, leads us all to fields, sublime through twisting, turning hands of fate, soon we'll all be known as "late" years roll on, time is passed no one knows how long it lasts each life is counted out by days as friends we oft go separate ways friend's faces show the lines of age as each one turns his separate page fools fleeting time waits for no man eighty years our lives may span so count your days with special care for who knows how, who knows where our beating hearts will one day stop find old friends before they drop © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Image adapted:  By SDRandCo via morguefile.com

can't wait

again

again if i could walk those golden streets again and sing those glad olden songs so sweet again if i could feel those pounding jungle beats again and touch those rumbling thronging beasts again if i could dance those daring double steps again and twirl the girls 'round their swinging hips again if I could swim those clear summer lakes again and float lazily where the cool current takes again if i could sit in playful grade-school seats again and draw where pencil and yellow paper meets again if i could run the asphalt baseball fields again and slap the rubber balls off car windshields again if i could fold daily newspaper sheets again in pre-dawn drowsiness on city streets again if i could gaily play in hot summer rains again and watch the water run into sewer-drains again if i could tackle tough and rumble players again and run through football teams like a laser again if i could frolic in frigid cold and icy snow again and not fear near fro...