Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2018
My mother taught me
Music,
Poetry,
Words,
Love,
The day is not done
Until you find all the beauty
It has to give.

My father taught me
Work,
Persistence,
Integrity,
Love,
The day is not done
Until all those under your care
Have all they need.

My Father taught me
Love.
Everlasting
Submissive
Love.
The day is not done
Until you have shed yourself
Of guilt that was never yours.

Guilt nearly destroyed me.
Gracious love restored me.
Sometimes my poetry gets caught up in the details.  Does that make me OCD?  If so, should I put those letters after my name also?
Written by
Cecil  69/M/The Meadows
(69/M/The Meadows)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems