Poet's Memoirs: Skyclad
On a shadowed night, such as this,
I sometimes like to reminisce,
And think of all the things I've said,
What words I've wrote, what thoughts I've lead.
I like to think I'll make my mark,
I'd like to come out of the dark,
But while these words are written here,
So swiftly do they disappear.
And thus I write, and sing, and long,
In my attempts to get along,
So if there's solace to be had,
These words remain ever skyclad.