Plod ___ the old men
Trying to stride
Their steps now half and halt
Burdened by the faults
Of uneven streets
Always grading up
Plod ___ a step
Another tired stair tread climbed
Beyond where they should have stayed
To let the world pass them by
Plod ___
Sometime, they rest
To reflect the remains of yesterdays
Only the face of strangers change
Plod ___
What do they hope to find?
Around the corner / down the street
A friendly smile in those they meet?
Or perhaps proof exists...
GOD ___ or some other curiosity·
What did you think
Comments
-
"Plod ___
Sometime . . . we rest
To reflect the remains of yesterdays
Only the face of strangers change" that was my fav. something about the way you worded that stuck with me
-
the highest wisdom isn't kindness but understanding
without understanding kindness is a tyrant
and good intentions become hell
-
i love this...
its simplicity and candor make it an easy read, but the ideas and images create enough mystery that i am really quite drawn into this...
this is just beautifully done.-cassidy
Adding your comment:
