Wandering
Wandering through life day after day,
tossed like a ship in a mighty gail;
Trying to find a place to anchor,
So that I might finally cut sail.
I hope my ship will stay a float,
till I can find a harbor of peace;
Where the sun is warm, the sky is blue,
and the winds they will cease.
I have grown old and weary,
my hair once brown now turns gray;
Fighting this storm that I call my life,
battling both night and day;
Has left me weak and tattered,
just looking for some sweet rest;
I hope the morrow will be kinder,
and not the start of another test.
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