Life in black and
white so simple a time
Modern life is an
epoch from sublime
The many things
we have to endure
Cause many an
anguish and this is for sure
Countless days
all since gone by
A final resting
place I might lie
The world filled
with selfish shame
I swore I would
not be the same
But suffer I have
year in and year out
Luck is something
always gone without
Despite good
deeds been done for years
One is always
reduced to forced back tears
