As time goes by like it does
I want to cry for what once was
I look back at the places my folks have been
I see their faces in the wind
all their homes fallen or plowed down
they lay motionless in the ground
I look at their tombstones all thats left
and know laying beneath
is their bones, gone to the thief called death
some were good others bad
I cant help thinking
of the times they had
planting cooking fishing
both work and play
it was survival day by day
each having their chores and things they made
what some had others didnt
they would trade
as time goes by we will be gone too
then our decendants
will cry for me and you
I thoroughly enjoyed, reading this poem! I write a lot, about my father, whom I adored! We had a wonderful, father and daughter, relationship and I miss him more, than words can say. Hence the poem...Until The Day I Die! ! I've read others, that you wrote, and I enjoyed, every one of them! You too, deserve a 10
a great insight...sad to say we all go all that way but its true.. thanks for sharing...10 Ency Bearis
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ernest. It certainly helps to be a realist in this life: Billy Graham once shared a a piercing thought - that there isn't one person alive today who was born in the 19th Century. True. Likewise, some day there won't be anyone still around who was born in the 21st century. Time certainly passes- and quicker than we realize. And may God bless those who will take our place. What a wonderful poem of depth and so much meaning. Thank for the inspiration. Certainly a 10.