Passing the Lines
By birksy
If age be mine, then there's little point in holding on, I see my lines, and they've grown deeper, I'm slowly leaving, but I know who's coming through, My skin is on my son's hands. My eyes are fine, but I know they'll go, Looking into nothing takes its toll, My son who hugs me doesn't realise yet, Doesn't know what it means. My lungs fill with air, almost a waste now, It burns the words of peace away, I sit quite still - sometimes without purpose, I see a gate swinging shut. Written December 11th, 2000 © on Jan 09 2002 08:58 AM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 8
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"If age be mine, then there's little point in holding on,..."