A Prayer
The days pass in an unending stream,
The weight that presses on my soul never ends.
It sits there, trying to smother my breath
And turns my face, turns it to the dark.
Why has it come to pass that I love..with a
passion that is for the young..and I am
old now and hold no future. I am sad
and wrinkled and tired. I cannot compete.
I end each day facing the wall..at last
alone to cry endless tears..I long for release.
Let me forget my heart ,let me look at the horizon
And smile…let me believe that I can find peace.
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2009
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