From a Poets Lips

I’m tired of living this so called life,
seeing sorrow, heartache and strife.
I’m ready for something exciting and new,
someone to cherish, will it be you?

Life is so short and passes so quickly.
I must do something to leave artistic
value and love so divine
savoring roses not petals dropped behind.

Black are the days gone and unfound.
Only the ones ahead keep me spellbound.
I’ll savor each one like cinnamon sweet,
carrying on like an olympic athlete.

I’ll run the race set before me now,
leaving words for another’s mind I avow.
I’ll pass my touch as I turn the next bend
on my way imparting words masterfully penned.

Sybil Shearin

Copyright ©2002 Sybil G Shearin

This entry was posted on 270506H Jan 2011 and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.

Comments are closed.