We used to know the touch of youth,
The sun's glow graced our pale young flesh,
The breeze carefully caressed us,
And we laughed in the green.
We made a bridge from old rotten crates,
That spanned a river flowing four feet wide,
We passed beneathe the trees of oak and ash,
And danced upon the unsullied bare rock.
We knew the grace of innocence,
The freedom of the summertime,
And the liberty of youth.
We dreamed of this future we now live.
No comments:
Post a Comment