POETRY

Our Time

Free verse

James G Brennan
Self-Crafted
Published in
Mar 22, 2021

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Photo by Miguel Bruna on Unsplash

With age comes death,
I’m not on about the obvious;
it’s the death of those around me.

My sight starts failing me as time moves on.
As time moves on
the light from the funeral pyre rarely goes out.

The sadness frequent, nerves become steel,
the anticipation a mystery,
unanswered questions a bore.

My time is my time.
“Only the good die young”.

Thank you Lee Ameka for giving my words a platform. 🙏
Thank you all for reading and your precious time. Always. J. 🙏✨

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James G Brennan
Self-Crafted

Writes free to read eclectic free verse poetry. "Everything in life is writable about" Sylvia Plath.