deepundergroundpoetry.com
THE TRAVELLER 3
Don’t you see my flesh
Has grown weary with time?
The beards have gone grey
With grace
And the bones
Are beginning to ache
With stamina
But there is no room
For stopping
As each day emerges
With renewed spirit
That fires this tired flesh
And the travel must continue
We must cover every inch
Of the miles
That has been marked out for us
By life.
Has grown weary with time?
The beards have gone grey
With grace
And the bones
Are beginning to ache
With stamina
But there is no room
For stopping
As each day emerges
With renewed spirit
That fires this tired flesh
And the travel must continue
We must cover every inch
Of the miles
That has been marked out for us
By life.
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