Tate Morgan > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

No hungered child is a lost soul Nor a beggar be taught how to live By preaching morals to the poor We take from whom we should give

We stand unafraid of the night.

So many lifetimes come and go between ill spent youth and the grave Hopes and dreams of generations Are the memories we all save

Now my pains have no place to play And nothing left for them to do

When a young man I so loved you With heart and soul both bold and true

In the later years on looking back On the winding road that I tread It disturbs this mans waking mind To think of follies I then fed

Poetry and I laughed to see what with her beauty she had done We sat under an umbrella while we both waited for the sun

Can anyone know what will come when the wind blows us cold and gale Or what direction it be from when finally we set our sail

There memories go to bloom again in the warm spring rains of the sky He’ll see her beauty stand before him not the passage of time go by