The old one walks slowly on
With staff in hand helped along
The robe is old and patched
With stockings both being unmatched
Each day dawns sparkling new
And experience teaches what to do
One step at a time down the line
Knowing the end is drawing near all the time
Some thoughts are muddled somehow
But it doesn't matter now
The middle was passed long ago
And the end is in sight so it goes
What does it matter in the end
No need for where and when
Going forward is the only way
Tomorrow is only a moment away.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem