As dust takes to penA Poem by GrayHalwkOpen thought
Who am I but only a figment of your imagination,
When race or the pigment of skin comes in, Friend nor foe as my story goes, Grow in pain, As it rains, Loving life in the darkness of night, Living and dying by morning like, Locked in rage, As each page is turned, Lost as all children of the night, Gets old before they find a home, Though in a tug of war, Soon I'll be sleeping at Gods door, For I need not a bed to lay my head, A place at the masters feet is what I want instead, Though no angels come to me in my hour on need, My Lord comforts me, And soon he will let my soul free, Knowing nothing and lost to the pages of time, Like a twisted Nursery rhyme. When life spins out of my control, Leaning on God because he is my only friend, Never knowing a mother or a father, Having both, But like two ships passing in the foggy night, They are lost at see, Never knowing me, Like an old mighty oake, I stand alone, If lightning doesn't strike me dead I may live a long time, But like a shadow, I'm gone, When you turn around, It will be as if I was never there, Just a figment of your imagination, As Dust takes to pen, Life begins again, © 2020 GrayHalwkFeatured Review
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4 Reviews Added on March 19, 2020 Last Updated on March 19, 2020 AuthorGrayHalwkEcho, MNAboutWell was on the streets as a boy in Oklahoma and in prison before I was 17 in Alaska then in the US Army at 23. And back in prison at 31 for 15 years married at 49. For the first time. Now a Disabled .. more..Writing
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