Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.
Nov 22, 2011
⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)
1944 LAST UPDATE
1944
Where are the winter snows
the Christmas trees with silver tears
color lights that glow
under golden angel hair
the scent of pine lingering in the air
and cold crisp nights around the radio
who stole my years.
I want to know
and where did the old folks go.
where are the winter snows
the wreath of pine on the side door.
where is the boy of three
why was he left behind
in nineteen forty four
About This Poem
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
wesley snow
13 years 7 months ago
Now this I can wrap my head around.
It seems amazing to me that something as large as WW2 happened but a few moments ago. How is it we can grow old and not even notice? wesley
Geremia
13 years 7 months ago
Yes. They were the best of
Yes. They were the best of times for me, though. Born in 1942.
loved
13 years 7 months ago
Olden years are cast in gold
Olden years are cast in gold
like firm memories
they stay for eons
yet seem as fresh ,as the morning dew
then as we recall
a ball of can bursts
we see light anew ,
as we retread over memories past
Recall the Hiroshima twas as if just yesterday
some memories never fade away
and
till the ultimate day we feel like twas just
a happening of today.
Happy 1942 to you .
and
many more shall come your way ,
this only Loved can pray and say.
Geremia
13 years 7 months ago
Not many more and that I know
Not many more and that I know
my voice is weak
my eyes have lost their glow
the time is close
but it is my way
to live each day
and I pray that when I go
it will be easy