The Poet

The Poet

Monday, June 6, 2016

All, Too Soon... by Ron Porter ©2016

midnight madness; fever dreams
it's clear I married much too young

through time tunnels, draped in blue
innocent voices sing guilty songs
trying to do right things that are wrong

plans best laid often go awry
from ruins, golden cities rise
succeeding empires crumble in time

deaths dire dirges and hymns of hope
float, intertwined, upward to the wind

it profits not to question why
live as fully as you are able
 for we all, too soon, shall die

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