Jul 2020
Once a small child now an old man.
White hairs to match the child’s down.
Easy the heart gets hurt by life.
Slowly now the urge to move,
Beyond the closing doors,
Where then all craving ends.
White hairs to match the child’s down.
Easy the heart gets hurt by life.
Slowly now the urge to move,
Beyond the closing doors,
Where then all craving ends.
