Time, I wrote this mournful plight,
Time, to look back where I've been,
Times were great, and some a fight,
Times, you've long ago foreseen.
By Arley Steinhour 091212
I feel like a young boy,
Whose parents walked away,
I feel like a big teenager,
Searching for words to say.
I feel like a young sailor,
Always off to sea,
I feel like a new father,
With my first son on my knee.
I feel like a man with children,
Running in and out the door,
I feel like life runs faster,
Much to do, and then some more.
I feel the pain of watching,
Children leaving, on their own,
I feel the empty aching,
Knowing, I can use my phone.
I feel the very lonely drive,
Caused by years of family plight,
I feel the long rebuilding,
With more and more, myself to fight.
I feel the joy of Salvation,
When Jesus fills my heart,
I feel the weight of sin gone,
I now do my witness part.
I feel deep, and pained anxiety,
Of mankind hating fellow man,
I feel anger at changed Society,
Where consideration's an also ran.
I feel the time of reminiscing,
Hasn't much more I can say,
I feel there's something missing,
So I'll get back, another day.