As we grow older,
Our knees give way,
Our hands tremble,
Our breaths shortens.
As I grow older,
It feels like age caught up with me,
Experience weighs me down,
Wisdom as my only anchor,
Memory makes my eyes water.
I’m tired, very tired.
Exhausted, very exhausted.
Will I make it to the finishing line?
Will my enthusiasm ever run dry?
Will the battery ever last long enough?
Or will I fail?
Will I falter?
Will I give up?
Will I run out of breath?
Dear Father,
I may not go to church every Sundays…
I may not say my prayers before mealtime…
I may not have put humanity before my pride…
But I try.
Please bless us all.
aww..that’s nice.. did ya made that?? cool! hehehe..
Wow, you wrote this? It’s so beautiful and moving!
Thanks, Misaki dear~
Sometimes I just feel down, and writing random stuff (it ain’t really a poem? o_O ) tend to perk me up a little~ 
I get how you feel
I do that sometimes! It’s nice writing – it’s something that soothes me 