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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Inspirational · #1030918
a faint, but desperate attempt at reliving
We shall overcome...
         We shall overcome...
                   We shall overcome...
The voices faint; yet--
                                          heard--
                             in the distance.
Feel the yearning of a thousand souls
         lost
                   in the chaos of tomorrow's end.
Tomorrow's end?...
Is this the end my friends, or foes;
         no one knows.
We shall overcome...
         We shall overcome...
                   We shall overcome...
My friends, this is not the end.
We must begin
         to transcend.
We must,
we must
we must increase our--
But, only today may we think of yesterday;
What a hard game we had to play:
Playing trumpets in a band,
Playing the hardest hand
                              you were ever dealt.
But don't tighten the belt; loosen it.
Let's breathe again.
We shall overcome...
         We shall overcome...
                   We shall overcome...
A melody never to forget.
Hear...
           the voices...
                                       coming...
                                                 closer.
Catapult them up, HIGHER,
                   never to forget.
We shall overcome...
         We shall overcome...
                   We shall overcome...
It's easy to blame one another for
         bad luck and troubles...
Sit back,
         and remember:
                                          the time
your sister cried because she
got on your nerves;
but she was only an infant.
Will we forgive her?
Sit back,
         and remember:
                                          the time
your mom drank up
the last of your cup;
but she knew you wouldn't finish.
You were only a pup.
Will we forgive her?
Sit back,
         and remember:
                                          the time
the dog chased you
ferociously nipping at your heels.
You screamed, you cried;
but she was only a mother.
Will we forgive her?
Sit back,
         and remember:
                                          the time
your dad scarred the dining table because he
slammed the cup too hard;
but he was only a man.
Will we forgive him?
Hear...
           the voices...
                                       coming...
Max 'indent' = 10                                        closer.
Catapult them up, HIGHER and HIGHER.
A melody never to forget.
We shall overcome...
         We shall overcome...
                   We shall overcome...
© Copyright 2005 Delana Romaine (dothadew at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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