Discarded Are They, Like So Much Flotsam And Jetsam!
Once when you were young, you won your town the race. They cheered you throughout the market square; Men and boys stood around, cheering and home they brought you on shoulders high...
Runners Of Long Ago Races
Once revered for their tenacious
even vital contributions to their peers.
Some chose to rise up,
way above their life stations
as were others making
contributions, within the context
of their own communal co-habitants.
Homes For Aged-Half way Stations to Nirvana
Then, they were men and women
of reverence, hailed,
for selfless endeavors.
Their once bright countenances
casting less than a dull gleam,
now in the light of a rising
coastal sun's rays, reflecting
only a dim glow
of their former self.
He Says Were Still Worthwhile
Relics, human flotsam
littering the shorelines
of the world which are
the halfway stations to Nirvana,
the homes for the aged.
God knows, we are still worth it
but He is the only one who cares.