"Poetry & Rhymes" by William Hancock


“Only Borrowed”

Only Borrowed

Time is so distant,
Not in the future, but now.
You cry for this instance,
But why, you know not how.

It’s sad your whimpering,
Your crying, so much deferent.
For me, life is movement,
A door to an entrance.

A beginning of a sort,
Something you can’t clue.
When our time comes,
And it will, just don‘t be blue.

We write, we sing,
We live like no tomorrow.
But we lost life’s meaning,
Our time only borrowed.

Whispering our songs,
In sounds never heard.
Sweet melody we hear,
Like the song of a bird.

The Lord, he awaits,
To hold us in his arms.
Behind heaven’s gates,
And all it’s charms.

William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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