Cast down, rejected, born one lonely,
Surrounded by crowds bathed in love
Never touching sordid soul so unholy,
Encoffined in dark, no light from above.

This prison is mine, and I despair alone,
And comes no mercy on wings of wind,
Nor calls my beloved in passion's tone
To loose my bonds and heart remend.

Will weeping sound and love be given
To the life-gone man who lies in state;
Affection enfold the cursed of heaven,
And on cold lips offered kiss too late?

Honored Man

A man who seemed so big
Yet would give the world to me
With hands made of stone
A life that you should know

He was a old time Cop you see
A Sergeant that walked the streets
In a time when cops just knew
How to enforced a law or two

A soldier in several wars
Americas worth fighting for
Those words I heard him say
When asked about those days

He was a prisoner of the war
But he would not say much more
We knew they tortured him
But they say he never gave in

At home he started hard
Drinking at every bar
But a family he still raised
Thats how it was those days

Then one day he just slowed down
And he put the bottle down
He became the man I knew
And tought me a thing or two

He was married for 50 years
To a woman he loved so dear
Till one day she left his side
To go to a better life

My grandfather was a gentle man
So calm when he held my hand
He gave so much in life
And he taught me how to write

By Carl Joseph Roberts (August 2013)



In
Loving
Memory
And In Honor of Sgt. Harold A. Yates ( Hank)
My grandfather who shared the love of poetry
Christian
Husband
Father
Soldier
Cop
Sergeant
Grandfather
­Great Grandfather

This Cross for him