Time

Once smooth
and lush,
the flesh 
has turned
to mush
as if Time
accepts its 
duty to
make 'pretty'
decline.

Who said 
we have 
to exit with 
a murmur
not a shout--
No fireworks
for the final 
Out? Nyet, 
nyet, I do 
not accept.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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Enriquez Avatar
May 30, 2014 at 7:44 PM
Dear Nola: Very true. Very nice. Leon
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