PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

No need to wait for the reaper to come

for a life spent beyond these years

the heartaches and misery have taken toll

and my wrath is measured in tears.



I have played my hand and walked the line

it seems so reckless now

while life and dreams spin out of control

too weak to wonder how.



Oh, there's laughter here and happy there

and memories too much to doubt

but, my mind will not remove the pain

that bleeds while time runs out.



"Play the fife and bang the drums, boy...

sound the tragic death refrain

for the ones who've earned their pardon

bearing scars to shield their pain."



I just can't stop feeling anguish

Oh, the sounds of gentle play

dressed as little cherub voices

far too young for what they say.



That this happy ever after

far too many times it seems

grays as weathered words on pages

meant for fantasy and dreams.



Still, there's hope as someday lingers

that the voices one day cease

and their tears will fall in sorrow

when my soul finds sweet release.