The Present
As the sun rises,
awaken to meet the day,
one's first thought,
what's gifted my way,
~*~
as each hour slips by,
one by one, to two,
each one to appreciate,
waste not to endure,
~*~
the past is no gift,
you know that so,
the past is a memory,
that's recalled, so n' so,
~*~
minute by minute,
as each comes forth,
the gift is no past,
its the present of course!
Razorblade © 2012
Copyright © Richard Mcclellan | Year Posted 2012
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