Do I hear the sound of Angels?
Feel the hand of Reaper Grim…
Rest upon my shoulder
Does the sound of children laughing
Still warm this heart?
This weary heart that's growing older
Are the pins and needles in my joints
My penance for…
Walks I didn't take
Seems more and more a hard decision….
Should I sleep on forever
Or should I once more wake?
I think my chorus of Angels is real
Though their song is heard
By me alone
And children's laughter still warms
This old cold heart…after all
Tis not made of stone
After all my years
I still believe in Angels…children…
Laughter and pain…somehow
One thing that I've come to know
For sure…tis that
The hills are steeper now
124 words
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Beautifully constructed Thanks for sharing. Please kindly check my poems HOPE and THE BEAUTY OF DEATH and leave your comments.
Nicely composed. Give you a ten. Thanks for sharing. Please kindly check my poems HOPE and THE BEAUTY OF DEATH and leave your comments.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent work! Well crafted