Ruth Wrights Poet Rhyme

Into the Dust

I count the days of the life I have
The comfy days and sultry beds
The thorns beneath and disguise above
That in a glimpse, a mem’ry aids

The lustrous days and empty years
The moments speaketh with flowing tears
And bunch of bucks- enticing peers
But with empty pockets- no one cares
The dancing lights of my youthful nights
Where on my name produces blithe
Changing course of the sail I have
Where painful curse do reigns above
 
I trod the clubs on morning days
And consume the wine to full extent
That mind forgets the right pathway 
So on the road I set my tent.

No visions bright of morrow life
For all I do awakens strife
All things were old and there wasn’t new
For in the morning- ‘twas same dew

So halt my friend and discern from these
For joy of life you will be miss
If thou will spend your lovely days
On moment that speak with vanities!

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