Reflections by George Crafter

Time now to weep
Where once fierce laughter rang
Time t think
On every thoughtless act.
What is time to me?
What am I to myself?
No more than I am to others.

All but for her.
She knew my sorrows, and only she
Could soothe the daily hatred
Which has writhed in me for years.
Lost now to me her face
The sight of her smile,
the light of her eyes
I to burn, and she to fly.
On my broken wings at her feet I lie

Back to Poetry & Art Domain