a mystery
It Stood Tall
There it stood my friend,
so lonely and so dead.
Many times was I told,
yes, many times it was said.
But after all the lonely times,
of living beneath the ground,
and now, me on top,
and this I had found.
I'm the seventh generation,
sense it happened long ago,
of the mighty blast,
and it's mighty glow.
But there it stood my friend,
as it must of always been.
And each time I looked upon it,
I looked away again.
And as I stood looking at it,
to my eyes came my tears.
I thought of all the lonely times,
and of all the lonely years.
It was almost like being there,
at the time of the great blast.
I could almost see the people,
and their bodies cast.!
As I walked it's streets,
and searched it's hidden doors.
I heard the screams behind the walls,
and felt the dead beneath the floors..!
I felt it was my decision,
to scale this lonely wall.
And simply, ask my friend,
What you felt, Stood tall ?
Knowman
Poetry by Donald Thornton
Read 476 times
Written on 2011-05-24 at 19:55
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