#220 Standing By Poem by Jimmie Arrington

The wind spins, the rain falls,
The phone rings from late night calls.
It’s futile asking “why? ”
The crickets chirp, the wolf cries,
We’re forced to whisper last good-byes.
Meanwhile, we’re standing by.

The sun fades, the day ends,
We hide ourselves, we lose our friends
To the passing of the sky.
The cancer grows, the virus spreads,
The lunatic is in our heads
And we’re only standing by.

The leaves alter, the book closes,
The morning wakes to wilted roses
But still they catch the eye.
We live a dream, await illusions,
Hope for hopes, not bitter conclusions
And remain standing by.

The moon glows, the stars shine,
We die for something to call “mine”;
Though we all deny.
The journey ends where it began,
We wish but cannot lend a hand,
We’ll always be standing by.