Tomorrow
Will be a day of
sorrow
Just for me, only for me
For some a day of glee!
Tomorrow
I’ll be handed a harrow
In a bouquet flowery
And I cannot flee!
On a chair
Made of wood called despair
I will be forced down
And robbed of my little crown
My heart will cry
While they will wish bye
With crocodile tears
On cheeks amply shown
History
It’s true a story
In a circle it repeats
Why the wisest it beats
Read the past
Here nothing is to last
Face it and embrace
On your way whatever meets!
What’s life
If it’s not strife
From our birth to death
Recounts our breath
Some glory we receive
In the course we grieve
Today it’s my sorrow
I carry as wealth.
Xavier Bage
Wed, March 10, 2016.
4:10 PM
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