Tired Feet
Tired feet, got to rest,
Sitting still, eyes closed,
Letting memories wash over me.
Emotions, dim with time,
Skitter across an endless pond
That seems to be my mind,
And I wonder how I survive,
When my feet are so tired
And I’ve got to rest.
Scenes from half-forgotten pasts,
Some parts fuzzy, others vivid,
Times gone by and people lost.
Memories of streams and splashing,
Skates and snowmen,
Visions of people I have loved.
Gray hair, once brown,
Hands wrinkled and spotted
With age-marks, one for every year
That I have treaded, on tired feet,
Through pasts and presents,
Dreaming of futures when my feet
Are weightless and I can float
Through layers of clouds,
As if I was not flesh but feathers.
But no, my feet are tired,
And right now I have to rest.
Eyes closed, dreaming,
Whistling tunes half forgotten.
Just remembering.
My poetry hasn't been very well received, so lets hope I can change the downward spiral of my reputation with this poem.
Gender:
Points: 4825
Reviews: 236