C
cor5755
Guest
Just wanted to offer something up.
I have worked many jobs in my life. I have no college education, was born in a lower-middle class family and will never be a rich man. My parents were a true blessing to me, very strong believers in thier Catholic faith and I never grew up lacking anything that I needed. I learned to cope with some jobs I held by writing poetry about situations I lived through. Now that I am much older, I wanted to share a poem with you all, something I wrote as a young man. It is a poem about social status, humility and finding happiness wherever or however you live.
From tiny saplings these forests grew, ever changing, ever new
Reaching the sky with neverending height,
would that I could, would that I might -
Only reach that height once again
Where young dreams blossomed, and new growth did begin.
But I was not patient, for change was slow
Under shade of their limbs, I could not grow
To the height of the others, who, once- like me,
Were tiny saplings under shade of trees
But I am not unhappy, for my world is here
Among the flowers and meadowgrass, which I hold so dear
Though we do not soar as high as some,
This picture of life would not be done
Without the beauty that grows beneath the trees,
That reach out forever in the neverending breeze.
I have worked many jobs in my life. I have no college education, was born in a lower-middle class family and will never be a rich man. My parents were a true blessing to me, very strong believers in thier Catholic faith and I never grew up lacking anything that I needed. I learned to cope with some jobs I held by writing poetry about situations I lived through. Now that I am much older, I wanted to share a poem with you all, something I wrote as a young man. It is a poem about social status, humility and finding happiness wherever or however you live.
From tiny saplings these forests grew, ever changing, ever new
Reaching the sky with neverending height,
would that I could, would that I might -
Only reach that height once again
Where young dreams blossomed, and new growth did begin.
But I was not patient, for change was slow
Under shade of their limbs, I could not grow
To the height of the others, who, once- like me,
Were tiny saplings under shade of trees
But I am not unhappy, for my world is here
Among the flowers and meadowgrass, which I hold so dear
Though we do not soar as high as some,
This picture of life would not be done
Without the beauty that grows beneath the trees,
That reach out forever in the neverending breeze.
