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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2200447
Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #2200447
It's tragic if you compromise, rearrange, overcompensate, until you become something else.
Is there anything sadder
to an immortal's eye
than a man who won't live
who's destined to die?

To a celestial sun
dancing the sky
than a bird with fine wings
refusing to fly?

It's tragedy
when it's plain to see
who you are
is not who you want to be

But I won't live this life mistaken
I will pay for all I've taken
angels come
they've not forsaken me

I won't live for things ill gotten
sweetened fruit
with cores gone rotten
angels come
they've not forgotten me

And when it's true
that all my days are through
I'll be here
you'll be near
There'll be just us two


G. Gabriel
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2200447