The Ode Of Man

Welcome To Author James H. Wilson's Poetry.

New Poetry	The Seasons It Has Known	The Ode Of Man	First Love
Waiting For You	The Woman You’ve Always Been	Now She’s Free	By Accident

I’VE NOT YET FOUGHT MY LAST WAR
I’VE NOT SEEN THE LAST OF NEW THINGS
I’VE NOT OPENED MY LAST DOOR
AND STILL I DO BREATH

I SIT IN WONDER BY THE DAY
OF THE IMPORTANCE OF THE NIGHT
THAT LENDS IT’S PATH TO THOSE THAT STRAY
THROUGH TINY BANDS OF LIGHT

I STAND IN FURY BY MY FLAG
THE SAME ONE THAT I CLAIM AS MINE
‘TIL I’M WEARIN’ LESS THAN RAGS
AND I HAVE LESS THAN DIMES

NO I SWEAR I JUDGE NOT MAN
FOR I’M HUMAN AND I WANT MORE
THAN GUN POWDER IN SOME CAN
OR TO EVER SEE WAR

I’VE LIVED AND DIED BY THE SWORD
I’VE KNOWN OF STRUGGLE AND OF STRIFE
YET OF THE BEST THAT I’VE DONE
IT SEEMS THAT WAR IS NUMBER ONE
WHERE I’VE MADE THE GREATEST SACRIFICE