Careless call me, for I'd lost, the dream that kept my smile.
Beaten by the shattered hopes, that littered every mile.
Slower still the footsteps tread, from youths immortal pose.
Grasping still but holding just, the thorns that shield the rose.
Again, I loved it.you can say a lot in just a short format.i love your poems.Good work
This is pure classic poetry at its best. This is as good as anything ever written. I mean that. GW62
This is lovely. It reminds me of a friend of mine who writes classic poetry. I'll email you with a link to his myspace page later. I think you will enjoy his work. Great job on this one.
Just a few lines so well penned. What can one say about perfection?
why must the rose have to have thorns, why? ... but we still love them...
You have the touch, many of your poems are about feelings. You so adeptly put your awareness of life to words. Thanks for sharing 'you' with us. Jimmer
This goes immediately to my list of favorites. I cannot get enough of your words. Susan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I can't find anything else to say, except....wow...this is simply amazing.