To many i loved the wanderlust would have made a stranger of me
Many friends of the past i may never more see
They live north of here by old hills far away
I have not seen or spoken to them for many a day
That time has become my foe does seem fair to say
The hair on my balding head silvery gray
Few friends of my boyhood were i to meet them me would recognize
We do age much faster than we realize
The boy of the fifties the years on him show
He is not the one his school friends used to know
I only recall them as they used to be
Time to them would have made a stranger of me
We live in the now and the past it has gone
And only the memories of what was live on.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment