Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2018
Maybe, one day; when I grow old,
I’ll see past quarrels slowly fold.  
Maybe, one day: when lights grow dim,
We’ll all sit quiet to hear one somber hymn.
Maybe, one day: the rain stops pouring;
You’ll be with me- our hearts left soaring.
one day, one day.
Bobby Dodds
Written by
Bobby Dodds  17/M
(17/M)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems