Hope
Cries that I hear are never near,
But buried deep into my being.
Each tearless sound ringing fearless
Into the dark of slowing life.
When young, age seemed fun,
But a lifetime away, distant.
Each milestone, a time of its own
Filled a life with joy or sorrow.
Now the child, in caress mild
Fill the hours of a waning day.
And so I cope with eternal hope
That they will be better than I.
But buried deep into my being.
Each tearless sound ringing fearless
Into the dark of slowing life.
When young, age seemed fun,
But a lifetime away, distant.
Each milestone, a time of its own
Filled a life with joy or sorrow.
Now the child, in caress mild
Fill the hours of a waning day.
And so I cope with eternal hope
That they will be better than I.
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