Post by deegee on Jan 13, 2013 14:12:50 GMT -5
Plod the men,
trying to stride.
Their steps half and halt,
burdened by the faults of uneven streets,
always grading up.
Plod another step,
another stair tread climbed,
beyond where they should have stayed
to let the world pass them by.
Sometime they rest,
to reflect the remains of yesterdays.
Only the face of strangers change.
What do we hope to find around the corner,
down the street?
A friendly smile in those we meet?
or perhaps proof exists, GOD or some other curiosity.
trying to stride.
Their steps half and halt,
burdened by the faults of uneven streets,
always grading up.
Plod another step,
another stair tread climbed,
beyond where they should have stayed
to let the world pass them by.
Sometime they rest,
to reflect the remains of yesterdays.
Only the face of strangers change.
What do we hope to find around the corner,
down the street?
A friendly smile in those we meet?
or perhaps proof exists, GOD or some other curiosity.