Of all the things I've thrown away,
Most have all dried up and blown away
I sure could use some of them today
What was I thinking, anyway....
Of all things precious I turned from;
Remembering a few and hiding some,
I would give all for the slightest crumb,
If the opportunity were now to come....
I remember constantly, day and night
To never again hold the past in spite
To reach forever for the softer light
And be aware wrong is so far from right....
Spread the table with memory's antiques
Listening quietly, I am sure it speaks
Of mother's words as the flooring creaks
Whispering solace that her only son seeks....
Vote for this poem
|Please Comment On This Poem