The Urge
The loner path,
where my
footfall is heard,
there it came
calling
the urge that i
on my own
hand fall,
i wouldn't dare
atall, i wouldn't
dare.
For the glories of
tomorrow
i long to behold,
so i wouldn't
dare.
When present
predicament is
forgotten,
in the grave
where the
remains of
yesterday
is laid to rise no
more.
Though the urge
came calling as
of the wind of
the west,
yet i wouldn't
dare atall,i
wouldnt dare.
For the glories of
tomorrow i long
to behold.
So i wouldn't
dare.
Copyright © Micheal John | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment