Grace Riffle

Winston Salem, North Carolina

Wasted Years

Wasted years that have slipped through my fingers
I can't call them back
They are but memories that linger
Through my waking hours
Dream ships that have gone to rack
On the sea of life's great destiny
Wasted dreams departed strife
A few days blooming flowers
But more have been fleeting shadows
That have darkened my life
And maimed me so
But I have reaped for reward a hallow
I would onto call them back
As crumbling dust they go.
Into vanishing years of woe
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