The winding way is narrowing
The branches baring, leaves a-falling
The plough through the field a-harrowing
Strange and distant voices calling
There won't be an encore
It's not about us anymore;
The wild wind is blowing
Pushing at our backs
A tiny candle flame glowing
The hay piled into stacks
Ragged the clothes we once wore
It's not about us anymore;
The future has gone and run away
The past a limpet and won't let go
It's too late to say 'OK, we'll stay'
Much too late to just say 'No'
I've never said this before
It's not about us anymore;
Tell them we had a go
We did the best we could
Tell them to take it slow
Not that we ever would
The waves have reached the shore
It's not about us anymore;
The sun is a-setting
The evening is drawing on
We've drifted in the betting
Our chance has been and gone
Now a whisper, once a roar
It's not about us anymore.
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Author:
Paul Gerard Reed (
Offline)
- Published: January 28th, 2025 06:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence
Comments2
Very nicely written piece that could have a few interpretations, enjoyed the read
Great write
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