Pat's Poems

This is a collection of poems I have written in the past and will be added to as I write more. I am putting them here to share with others. Any comments are welcome.

Sunday, October 30, 2005

The Clock 8/2/04

The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.

To lose one's wealth is sad indeed,
To lose one's health is more,
To lose one's soul is the worst loss
That no man can restore.

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