Like the morning in its every hour stay <br />Shall not be drifting to ties of gone by <br />But be like a gleaming before the day <br />In the opening of thoughts down or high <br />Nothing's as easy it sometimes was <br />Through the energy of its drifting waste <br />Though there might seem amends of some trespass <br />It came also under influence of taste <br /> <br />We were boys in gone yesterday's school yard <br />In our boyish outcome and all their trying luck <br />Then we broke up and went to older ward <br />But some of our thoughts on a rim got stuck <br />Now you are there but I'm still here finding <br />Some of the blind spots that keeps rewinding<br /><br />Peter S. Quinn<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-were-boys-sonnet/
