Upon many a rough and rocky street
have walked these tired, blistered, old feet.
Down many a dark alley they doth roam
towards that dimension, soon to be home.
So many tell a story of what lies ahead,
fill our brains, where our lives will be lead.
Some believe that dead is dead.
Others believe what books have said.
Will we ???, in the end, come to meet
and that last dance, be a delicious treat ?
B. J. “A ” 2
April 6th 2017
Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield | Year Posted 2017
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment