Sold Myself To Short

Sold Myself To Short

To the end

That found me in my grave

The whittled years of youth

To pain I became a slave

This bag of dusty bones

To which my skin no longer clings

Still holding to my past In my soul the echo rings

I could have touched the stars

That fame was within my reach

But I sold myself too short

Something school forgot to teach

© November 1993, William Grant Preston

Grant's Rants - Poetry