Colin F. Jones


Well I am just a person,
Obligated not to you,
I live where I live until I die,
Whenever that is due.

Temporary is the mind I have,
But it belongs to me,
Only I, this temporary man,
Through these eyes can see.

What can I say that is not lost
As perpetual time goes by,
Nothing is worth dying for;
Tears with the moment dry.

What is done is done, and words
By time are all erased;
All the fine and grand absurds,
All the glory and dismays.

Who cared about my small view,
What difference did it make?
It is to myself I must be true;
My choice and my mistake.

But I am just a passing grain,
Part of the wild storm;
From this life with naught to gain
For with nothing I was born.