No Time torey_russell185: He sits upon the ocean bluff staring out to sea. This old poet of many years lost in memory. He remembers well, when as a lad, his sight was sharp and clear, but now his eyes are dull and sad and wet with salty tears. His body once a sculptures dream is now bent low and frail, he struggles with each breath he takes, his skin is dry and pale. Time has stolen all his dreams and robbed him of his power. Crushed and sifted all he was now death will soon devour. If only time were not the thief its shown its self to be. There are stanzas yet to write metaphors still to bleed. He watches now as ships sail past and children play and swim, lovers walk and stop to kiss seagulls chant their hymn. "So much to see, much to be written," he whispers as shelved verses & the life he postponed screams "It's too late" death is the one thing that will not wait. ~Torey  bus194: The thought of death is every lingering but I've learned to accept it as just another way of life. It'll come when it will. I just home I don't leave too many in sorrow when it does happen  eyeofthetiger2u7: This is a very well written Poem Torey ! A bit sad but then this is the way Life and Death is ! Well done Poet I would read more of your Poetry .  (Post deleted by angpd ) | poems Chat Room Similar Conversations |
