August 23, 2011

Time flew like a tornado past the house,
Disarticulating the serene house's charms.
Like a poor neighbour she was disrobed,
Leaving behind a scarred and barren farm.

Some started a race they eventually lost,
While others gave up before the start.
The winds of time move unrelentingly past,
To stand up to it, few have the heart.

No comments:

Post a Comment