A Reflection
o youth,where did you go
those yesterdays,still glow
pure white,as virgin snow
whose face is this I see,
is this really me;
where,where did youth flee
inside,still seems bran new
my youthful outlook,stays
albeit,passing days
a future lies ahead
beyond the grave,He said
the narrow path,to tread
in a resurrected body,new
for what I did for you
quatorzain-free form sonnet
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2011
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