Before I'M Out of Time
Will destiny allow
This poet’s wrinkled brow
To write a poem now
That brings a great big WOW?
I scarcely think it will.
For wrinkled brows can kill
And leave a fruitless chill.
Then where would be the thrill?
I’d rather think that love
That’s sanctioned from above
Will bring the needed shove
Toward what I’m dreaming of.
Though I'm not in my prime
A mountain I must climb
And find that perfect rhyme
Before I’m out of time
Written By John Posey
01/09/13
Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2013
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