A child, running and playing, you were seven in nineteen thirty nine,
A different world, another time, a boy with a father and mother,
Your family of brothers and sisters, you were so young, full of life.
Before we met you made your way throughout this big world,
In nineteen sixty nine I was seven, I was so young and so were you,
A life ahead of me was to be as I like you would run and play each day.
It’s kind of funny, you were thirty when I was just born, a young man,
I was just starting out, some day I would grow to be like you, this was to be,
I became a little older than you at fifty three, forty six years apart now for you and me.
Keith Garrett
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Reblogged this on Diary of a person who does not matter (to others) and commented:
A poem I liked … it has a sepia quality to it … enjoy…
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Very interesting and very touching. I find it interesting that you could see a quality in your older friend that you liked and respected. Now, take it a step further. Hit the refresh button on your life. We should not worry about not being young; we should concentrate on not being old. Very nice and meaningful poem.
Great post. Thanks for visiting my blog. Blessings.
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On Mon, Oct 5, 2015 at 7:27 PM, keithgarrettpoetry wrote:
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Very moving. I related it to my father who was 35 wen I was born. I only had him for 18 years of my life, since he died at 54. Now I’m 70. I wonder what we would make of each other if we could talk today?