Memory of Her

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
a broken watch, silent and unmoving.
An aged man is a proud thing,
always watching, never helping.
An aged man is a lonely thing,
waiting for nothing, and everything.
But when he thinks of how he was
back when he was young.
His spirit lifts, a smile cracks
and he remembers how sweet she sung.





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AureliaMarrable said...
Nov. 16, 2010 at 7:19 pm
I forgot to credit the frist line! It's from a poem by W.B. Yeats! Uhh...Sailing to Byzantium. This poem was for a class assignent.
 
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