| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Other >> Other >> ID #1847603 |
| |||||||||||||
|
Days
Free Verse Poem They come, They go. The cycle goes, One at a time. Some live as if it, Was their last. Others live as if it, Were endless. Though none have known More than forty-five thousand. And others, Never see the first. Regardless, We all know our last is coming.
© Copyright 2012 Nuclearman (UN: newenvironment at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Nuclearman has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |