The Old Ones

They are gone now
The old ones
They look down at me
From the framed photographs
Walls are adorned with them
My eyes are weak now
When I look up at them
I do not see wisdom anymore
But the message is clear
One day I shall have my place
Amongst them
A lifeless framed photograph
Someone may look up at me
As I look up now
And hear the words of wisdom
Spoken many moons away
Don’t waste your precious time
Once gone, won’t come back
Yeah right
What am I doing now

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This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Three

WISH

Wish I had the healing touch
With the power to heal
War torn miseries from this
World, like magic lifting the downtrodden
Wretched and tortured souls and deliver a
Wonderful, peaceful world for the people
With ample to share by one and all
Worry free and happy world
Where there would be no more poverty
Wanton mayhem and murders
Wickedness banished for ever
Woman,man and all races as equal partners
Will share and prosper together
Won't we be able to see a
World so beautiful that we all cherish
Willingly sacrifice to keep it nourished
World we will be proud to
Wander without fear of artificial borders
Where no checkpoints, walls and fences
Will keep us apart further
Wishing alone won't make this happen
Working together we stand a chance

 

Week 5 of my journey of a poem starting with letter “W”

Write Anything Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Familiar Place Unfamiliar Surroundings

Old expatriate’s
Homebound heart
Questions galore
Will I find the home
Long ago
I left behind