When will the hoary shackles of
Life’s winter crack and fall?
When will I at last rise above
The muck that grounds us all?
When might the shadows of my thought
Recede as stars at dawn?
So that I’ll be that man I ought
To be, not one more pawn?
When will the hoary shackles of
Life’s winter crack and fall?
When will I at last rise above
The muck that grounds us all?
When might the shadows of my thought
Recede as stars at dawn?
So that I’ll be that man I ought
To be, not one more pawn?
A Poem A Day 