Aged with work, bent with failure
Dying on hope and living against fear
Vast lands he’s crossed, lived on small ones
Effervescent in spirit, like a boy he runs
Never stopping at a calling crossroad
Tiring never of the heaviest load
Unsure of his future, but sure of his past.
Real hero who will die unsung, alone
Every adventure is forgotten, unknown.
3 comments:
Common man is so uncommon, TT!
I felt I am comprised in that description you sing! Not old in years yet but old in experience.
Common man is born already old, and travels on hills and dales!
Maybe years fall onto his shoulders but when you look deep into his eyes, you can get a glimpse of the little boy who is ever in his heart!
Your poem is a bitter-sweet truth!
Thank you!!
Thanks Tony!
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