Sunday, December 29, 2002

a poem, by Michael Sherrillo

No matter how high the castles we build,
Or the depth of the footprints we leave,
Soon after we have left all these behind,
They are swallowed by time's tides and seas.

Lost are the riches, the fame and the glory.
Forgotten are all names and all deeds,
With a few steady strokes of the clocks infinite hand,
All I am will be washed away clean.

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