Cycle
The children of our future
Are not our children at all
They come through us
But to us do not belong
They belong to their own time
A place which we can't exist
Because our time has expired
A time to live
A time to play
A time to learn
A time to die
They like us before them
Have been chosen to leave
Their soul prints in the sands
To dare to paint their human impressions
In the eternal abyss unbound
Free to dream
Free to roam
Free to go where their hearts want to go
One day soon their time will end
Like generations before
If they were ever so lucky
Ever so brave
They will leave their children also
In this beautiful cycle
Called life
Copyright © Lisa Brannon | Year Posted 2016
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