"Remember that thou art dust."
Memento Quia Pulvis Es
Time shall pass, and so we must
Mingle our stuff with the dust.
Hedonistic hours are fleeting:
Time for drinking, time for eating,
Quickly slips between our fingers.
April's blossom never lingers.
Bodies fresh and bodies supple
Intertwining as they couple
Soon go cramped and creaky-jointed,
Leaving lovers disappointed.
Pleasure plies its sugared fiction;
Death gives constant contradiction:
Even though the young are pretty,
Here we have no lasting city.
Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas
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Written on 2018-09-05 at 07:57
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