|The Front Porch||
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|Date:||7/6/2015 8:07:20 AM|
|Message:||I’m P*ssed. I’m hurt. I limp to the Porch.
My rocker’s still there and the lamp’s like a Torch.
Newbury’s, thanks for allowing me to sit a while.
He said the words, they’ve heard before.
What, once had value, is now a bore.
There’s nothing new and for him to tell.
Age becomes his earthly hell.
Self pity, “ I’ll never do!”
What used to be others, has now become YOU.
The things he says, are all the same.
There’s no one but himself, to blame.
A history book, that no one reads.
A flower bed, that’s now all weeds.
A candy bar, that’s now consumed.
A trash can, is the wrappers tomb.
Guess that’s how, the cards are dealt.
Now he knows how others felt,
What, now is old, has become a crime.
The good news is, your out of time.
They’ll live their lives, and live them well.
Memories, they’ll birth, to tell.
Most, will die, but one, will live.
Where no one wants …… what they have to give.
| Unheard words by larry moore at 7/6/2015 8:07:20 AM|
| Re: Unheard words by larry moore at 7/6/2015 8:30:12 AM|
| Re: Unheard words by Brian at 7/7/2015 3:35:06 AM|