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Open Poetry #50
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The Time We Waste
| Open Poetry #50 |
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The Time We Waste |
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Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA 
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If I could make my pen a brush- Express myself in art I’d paint the breadth of human mind, The depth of human heart. The tenderness of maiden’s love, The glamor she can see- Alas, in such a little while, Comes stark reality. The tragic unwed mother- So sure, she’d be a wife, The man “most likely to succeed”- Now lives a drunkards life. The clock of life is wound but once- Or so I’ve heard it said: Just a few remorseless ticks, And they will find you dead. To die is not a horrid thing- It’s cup we all must taste. The greatest tragedy of all- Is precious time we waste. |
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| © Copyright 2020 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Rex Allen McCoy Member Elite
since 2000-01-30
Posts 2863Sippin a Timmy's in London |
What a great picture that would be |
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Paul Wilson
since 2002-07-07
Posts 4711United States |
John...I really love this. You are a very gifted poet sir and hope you continue painting beautiful pictures with your words. Paul ~~To share my poems with you is to share my heart with you~~ |
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Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA |
Thank you, gentlemen. |
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