Marigold field
When at dawn were all just pawns
Who toil until the evening
Who use every last bit of brawn
To have the skeptics believing
At dusk were all just shallow husks
Who lie in wait for the break of day
Who feel like we're speared on the tips of tusks
And no one can hear what we say
The delicate flower of a seasonal change
The glory of life so fast
We take the coin of life as nothing but change
Until our life has passed
As gently as the night
The time we try to buy
Our end is bane like night is fright
Never again shall we see the sky
All my wounds have not been healed
And everyone gathers to weep
I lay down in a marigold field
And quickly fall asleep
poem by Logan Fulk
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.