Patrick 'the pyropoet' littrell
When time comes you find yourself in deep trouble
Like a ship lost in the mid-sea during a storm
You want to cry and need a shoulder to lean on
Seem hopeless and could not move on...
Got no one around whom to count on.
Maybe you have totally forgotten me
Have given up on me for somebody
Think I am useless and nothing but garbage
So you shun and make a mock on me.
You might be surprised when you turn your back
See me smile with open arms and extended hands
For unlike them whom you prefer to be with than me
I'll never give up...
Turn my back on you.
I'll be your candle
Offer you light so you may not stumble
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Comments about this poem (The Promise by Patrick 'the pyropoet' littrell )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
(5 November 1850 - 30 October 1919)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
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