Just Strife Poem by Walter C. Edwards
Just Strife
My head is bowed,
as I see myself,
In a mirror I pass by,
going through hard times,
done nothing wrong,
but life has a habit,
of making you small,
dumping on you more and more,
until your back is broken,
and raw,
down to just bones,
losing love ones,
losing jobs,
losing life,
no love,
just strife.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: loss
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4/19/2024 5:20:50 AM # 1.0.0.1119
