The glass was full of hope and promise,
And drinking deep, I learned to live;
What twists and turns led me to linger?
Did not last but a moments glimpse.
I turned to see what weave we've woven,
Looked deep inside my heart and soul,
And every page that turned with reckless,
Abandonment of them too soon began.
What is this thing that life's about,
That keeps us slipping the slippery way?
If all our efforts filled some obscure book,
In the final analysis what did we say?
Before the day had dawned with beauty,
A life's beginning had middled away,
With soon the grayest of all the graydom,
Came marching us into the grave.
Sep 8, 2011
Sep 8, 2011 at 3:34 PM UTC
The glass was full of hope and promise,
And drinking deep, I learned to live;
What twists and turns led me to linger?
Did not last but a moments glimpse.
I turned to see what weave we've woven,
Looked deep inside my heart and soul,
And every page that turned with reckless,
Abandonment of them too soon began.
What is this thing that life's about,
That keeps us slipping the slippery way?
If all our efforts filled some obscure book,
In the final analysis what did we say?
Before the day had dawned with beauty,
A life's beginning had middled away,
With soon the grayest of all the graydom,
Came marching us into the grave.