Sand Through The Glass
Time slows and speeds at its own whim
And history is bright or rendered dim
Memories are recalled or lost in the fog
Our long history becomes a mental bog
Age becomes our journeys log in pain
And we trudge the worn track of it again
All too familiar and all too weary is the road
And nothings changed to our perceived load
The fire of our hot youth has passed and cooled
And now life reminds us how we were fooled
The golden years are mostly a lower grade of brass
And we find our children are heaping full of sass
Our hard earned wisdom no one wants to hear
And so we are silent watching their needless fear
We shake our heads at the wasted effort of it all
And wonder when the Master will make that call
Still we plod on and yet still explore each new day
Happy for the chance to chance the gift of play
For honest laughter is ours even as we grow old
And so we take the day with a feeling somewhat bold
We may not be honored for wisdom so hard earned
And we may have to live with those who coldly spurn
So we shrug and get on with finding the treasure there
And live our lives with a touch of humor amid the cares
Gee, JOHNN..This is beautifully written but depressing! I am tired and not feeling top of the heap but it’s not THAT bad..LOL
(((HUGS)))
You will soon see a lot of people wearing Red on Fridays. Here's why..... The Americans, who support our troops, are the silent majority. We are not "organized" to reflect who we are, or to reflect what our opinions are. Many Americans, like yourself, and all their friends, simply want to recognize that Americans support our troops. Our idea of showing our solidarity and support for our troops is starting Friday and continuing on each and every Friday, until this is over, that every red-blooded American who supports our young men and women, WEAR SOMETHING RED. |
Good morning, JOHNN.
Sad, but lovely poem. Thank you for sharing.
Have a wonderful weekend.