Yesterday
Yesterday
In this languished morning as a remembrance of night
Retains the stars departure,
And kept yet close were the dreams that fade
Into the brightness of day;
While I am not the same
As I was an hour ago
A man with faith he is thought to possess
Is held back by his own conception,
Ever mindful of the years to come
Yet always dreaming of yesterday;
For his ideas are not the same
As they were an hour ago
Good-by tender child for the hour has past
And I may ponder forever, alas;
The silken buds of the flowers die
To become a color of the nighttime sky,
Still our feelings are not the same
As they were an hour ago
For time does journey so quickly by
And all that lives is prone to die,
The youth becomes man and man becomes dust
Then dust in the breeze will fly;
For my thoughts are forever the same
As they were an hour ago
By M.Norton
marklnorton@shaw.ca
Copyright © Mark Norton | Year Posted 2010
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