December 21st
If the sun hits the earth, then you and I will wake
To look out the window into another day
And in-between the sheets, just like our parents laid
We will grow old, and old, and old
Just for a while, we’ll accept our fates
Knowing that we’ll succumb to disease or old age
But as long as we are alive, is as long as I’ll say:
I’m blessed to wake up to your beautiful face
You’re something to hold on to,
A spitting image of what is truth
In a world of deceit and lies where we are all sure to soon die
So if the sun doesn’t hit the earth, then let us pass with trust
That the good die young and heaven isn’t a bust
And if love was really some sort of curse
I’m glad I’ll be wiped out with it on the twenty-first
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.