About The Still

Post 292:

            In youth it’s always final

            The next thing proves nothing

            And never will

            Then age overwhelms

            And you add up all the somethings

            However bitter the pill

            In youth the world is gleaming

            Too bright to hope for more

            And nothing past the hill

           Yet time has taught away the shore

           But count on sails again to soar

           And count on something still

            Poems. I know. See you after.