Bed of ashes and sorrow
It just don't look good to me
To wallow in the pains of work
Living a life of hindered accomplishment
Job stealing our precious essence of time without a perk
Our life a hairline fracture of time's establishment
So save from life's sorrow as it beats at you
For maintaining our time stamped foreheads will expire
As taking time by the rein is not a concept new
And yet, for trying so, we'll retire
Then the day's wither away and our residence soon to be under
Still we choose to try to toss such days asunder
It just don't look good to me
As it must stand, better days are coming
Bed of ashes and sorrow...
Be gone to me
YOU ARE READING
By The Light
PoetryThis is a collection of poetry that I wrote myself. I hope all who read can enjoy the few bits of words I attempt to clamber together.
