(25th March 1943 / )

The Earth Rolls On

Who is the young man, who stands at the dawn of the day,
And views the world with a frivolous outlook, and with ease,
He dreams, new dreams, his life years from decay,
As if the earth were his, and he had only himself to please.

Who is the middle aged man, who stands at the dawn of the day,
And views the world, with an eye of someone so unbelieving,
With stress and pressures, which weigh him down like clay,
He finds the earth to be a place that's so unforgiving.

Who is the old man, who stands at the dawn of the day,
And views the world, with a subdued and despondent air,
He's seen life come and go, and from him now, it's speeding away,
And the earth that he remembers, is no longer fair, no longer there.

But the earth rolls on,
And our lifespan, too, will soon be gone.
The young, the middle aged and the old.

Their stories told.

© Ernestine Northover

User Rating: 4,9 / 5 ( 31 votes ) 6

Comments (6)

A profound poem, Ernestine, which gives one pause to consider how precious life really is... and what one might do with it. Thank you for this. Love, Esther : ]
Dear Ernestine Mortality makes us sit too long sometimes pondering over the obvious, but drawn to ponder none the less. Vary Poeignent.Made me stop and think >Love Duncan
Fine poem, Earnestine. Simple yet profound, it deals with the process we all face, aging and impending death. Change will come no matter what we do. We have no choice but to ride it or it will ride us! Beautifully written poem. Wishing you the best, Hugh
Oh Ernestine. Simply stated poem about a profound subject. Remember when once I was indestructible and am now pretty well destructed. (smiles) Seems as though the memories are most important now. Rusty
oh for the passages of times, Ernestine. I love being in my 40's! Every year I get to let go of something else that I find never mattered in the first place. Nice one...check your in box.
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