When the blue green summers
of youth give way
to the golden falls of the aged and grey
its understood that death will call
but no one cares
no one at all
When sacred lives have slipped away
in morning's paper deaths displayed
as obits breathing final breaths
of those who left this world in death
Their storied bones are buried behind
the other news and hard to find
a legacy of 50 words
or less if less in life occurred
Like the simple things they did unheard
The times they stopped to lend a hand
The little things in life they planned
The times for Christ they took a stand
The only footprints in the sand
and no one noticed
no one at all
except God
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 4:38 PM UTC
When the blue green summers
of youth give way
to the golden falls of the aged and grey
its understood that death will call
but no one cares
no one at all
When sacred lives have slipped away
in morning's paper deaths displayed
as obits breathing final breaths
of those who left this world in death
Their storied bones are buried behind
the other news and hard to find
a legacy of 50 words
or less if less in life occurred
Like the simple things they did unheard
The times they stopped to lend a hand
The little things in life they planned
The times for Christ they took a stand
The only footprints in the sand
and no one noticed
no one at all
except God
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