Faded light shines on a new day
Tinted from yesterday's harvest.
A child coughs his first breath
And an old man of forty drinks his last drop.

Tomorrow's dream, a scetch on worthless paper
As worthless as the dream itself.
And a flower growing amongst it all.

Though wilted the flower blossoms
And brings color to the sky
And life to the new born child

But night will once again fall
Just a a curtain falls
And crush what little beauty is left
And the audience will leave an empty hall
for the next showing.

Nice poem .

creative