Christopher Withers

Fleeting Days - Poem by Christopher Withers

each passing day bears little weight,
but little weight accretes,
a lifetimes worth weighs heavily
on my (now) frail form.
childhood memories: now ghosts,
haunt my dimmest vaults,
phantasma unreality,
and a thousand tales or more.
carrying so many years
becomes too great a task,
each day that passes (fleetingly)
dims my vision more.
my future holds an unknown place
which dimming vision bodes,
will be my final resting place
lost amidst the dark and cold.

Comments about Fleeting Days by Christopher Withers

  • (5/9/2009 6:08:00 PM)

    So true and so eloquently put. A very good poem.

    (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Thursday, September 11, 2008

[Report Error]