| Honor |
| There were the days in
the nature of man |
| When honor was more
precious than life |
| With two hundred years to
understand |
| We still extract honor
with the knife |
| The nourishment of honor
is fallow at best |
| Dormant seeds lay in the
ground and rot |
| The survival of man is
the real contest |
| Honor basks in the
shadows it brought |
| The word honor is so easy
to say |
| Used so carelessly in the
pursuit of life |
| Perhaps there is another
way |
| To bolster the fears of
man in the night |
| ©11/28/09Terry Sutherland |
Webmaster: Thurman P. Woodfork
