The Drifting Leaves of Days
The river flows, a constant silent guide,
Where moments drift like leaves upon the stream,
And youthful dreams where once we took our pride,
Now fade to whispers in a waking dream.
The sun ascends, then sinks with steady stride,
And years, like shadows, quietly scream,
We grasp at moments fleeting, swift, and brief,
And find that time itself brings only grief.
©bfa040425
Copyright © Bernard F. Asuncion | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment