The Fence
THE FENCE
I see a boy with eyes of blue
searching his life for what is true
His feet are bare, his hands are rough
He has no life, the days are tough
He leans against and old wood fence
The weeds are tall , the woods are dense
His head is resting on the old wood row
He has no life, no Love nor need to grow
They have shown no Love, no arms were there
He lives alone for there is no care
Inside his heart there lies a need
Won't someone help him plant a seed?
Love has no house inside his heart
His mind, his will, his efforts torn apart
As life goes by it makes no sense
That's why his head leans on the fence
Copyright © Burt Heacock | Year Posted 2015
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