His days were all happy,
His days were all sad;
His days were all fleeting
Illusions he had.
The dust is all settled,
The dust lies all cold;
The dusts are now waiting
For a meeting foretold.
His dreams are all finished,
His dream is all done;
His life has now ended,
His life has begun.
Forever he'll rejoice then,
And forever he'll mourn;
The blanks and the fillings
Of the days that are gone...
Author notes
Line 7 is intentional 
A contest entry
- The Art Of Words by Poetess12.
2400 points, ended October 14, 2008, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Like it? Please comment!
Comments
-
This poem is good. I like the rhyme and flow of it.
Thanks for your entry.
Adding your comment:
