The Cup Of Grief

We're born alone, and so we die,
Alone, no use to fuss or moan-
Each living thing must face the truth:
We drink our cup of grief, alone.

The smallest mite will feel the pangs
Of discipline, and hearts of stone,
Revenge exacted, full, complete:
He drinks his cup of grief, alone.

The older ones learn all too soon
There is not long one can postpone
The common lot of man and beast:
They drink their cup of grief, alone.

All creatures born, at last confront
There be no pardon or atone
For random guilt that living brings:
They drink then that last cup, alone.

[...] Read more

poem by Shirts Williams
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the Falling Petal

It starts to grow in the morning dew
The beauty it shines through and through
Until one-day it is fully grown
Being grateful its seeds were sown
The flower has blossomed and it stands tall
But sadly it knows it soon will fall
For right now, it is so proud
And in the shade, it does not shrowd
For something that was once a beautiful flower
It now just withers and in a corner it cowers
It used to bloom in the light of day
Hoping its beauty will always stay
But now winter is here and the beauty's no-more
And the future of this flower has nothing in store
When the winter snow begins to settle
Thats when you see the first falling petal

poem by Shirts Williams
Added by Poetry Lover
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