The Weathered Years
The weathered years pass with silent restraint
Leave an impression of time standing still
I have counted sunsets without complaint
Life washes over me testing my will
I've crossed boundaries of unimportance
Found wisdom at the rusty gates of age
I've laughed on the dark stage of circumstance
And know life's curtain falls on its last page
To play a fool in the turmoil life gave
And paint graffiti on its coldest walls
To be my own master, be my own slave
I'll open the rusty gate when death calls
I can only ask for the price of years
Find it a mixture of beauty and tears
4/6/15
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2015
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