Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2013
We are growing old they tell us,
every year.
We are more alone they tell us,
every year.
We can win no new affection,
we have only recollection.
Deeper sorrows and dejection,
every year.

There comes new cares and sorrows,
every year.
Darker days and darker morrows,
every year.
The ghosts of dear love haunts us,
The ghosts of changed friends haunt us,
And disappointments daunt us,
every year.

Too true, life's shores are shifting,
And we, are seawards drifting,
every year.
The living more forget us,
there are fewer to regret us,
every year.
But the truer life grows nearer,
And the morning star climbs higher,
every year.

Earth's hold on us grows slighter,
and the heavy burden lighter,
and the dawn immortal brighter,
every year.
Ciara Sarah
Written by
Ciara Sarah  London/Utrecht
Please log in to view and add comments on poems