| |
My father's blood is coursing through my veins;
His virtuous life goads me do greater things;
His condescension in my heart too reigns;
I want to join his band of great earthlings.
The man of conscience is edifice;
The man who's duty-bound is praise-worthy;
The liar lolls in his own artifice;
Remaining unsightly to God-earthy.
The grave is just an outward show of men!
But lies within it, Truth, untruth, buried;
Let sanctity remain; Lets say, 'AMEN';
When earth grows weeds, how long can one unweed?
Let practice stay second to doing deeds;
The soil matters, equally falling seeds.
Dr John Celes
Read poems about / on: father, truth, god, heart, life, sonnet
|
|
User Rating: |
|
--
/10
(0 votes) |
|
|
|
E-mail this poem to e friend