Poem By cristobal obregon silvertop

Just because i am born of a woman
my life is but for a few days
but my world is surrounded by troubles
i rise gloriously like a flower at dawn
but in the evening i fade away
like a shadow i try to run
but as a man i cannot continue
my days on earth has been predetermined
the number of my steps are being counted
the number my montrhs are all recorded
my limits in life has been appointed
so that i cannot exceed
i have no rest because i'm full of worries all about me
just as a mountain falls and crumbles away
and a rock is being moved from its place
as stones are being worn away by reunning waters
and as the soil is being washed aweay by erosion
so also have my hopes in life been destroyed
for there is hope for a tree
it would sprout again after it is cut down
and never will its tender shoots cease
old in the ground it's roots may grow
and die in the ground it's stump may too
yet bud it will at the slightest touch of moist
like a plant it will produce it's branhes
but if i die i am laid away
indeed i breath my last
and where am i?
six feets beneath the soil
for as water dries from trhe sea
and a river runs out of water
so will i lioe down and not rise
till the heavens are passed away
i will never awake
nor be awakened from my dreams
for this shall be the end of me
but you surely are not excused.

Comments about We

The end of you is not the end but the beginnin of another life.Nice piece Mike! !

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