In a Hundred Years

BY CAROLE NICHOLS

In a hundred years, it won't matter
Who hurt who or why;
Not a single soul will know or care,
About these tears that you cry.

In a hundred years, it won't matter
Who was right or wrong;
For we are just motes in the wind,
In a hundred years, we'll be gone.

But for months and days without end
I think I've felt your pain;
To have held so much and lost it,
Did you quietly go insane?

The face you wear, that puritan's mask
Leaves little room for sympathy;
The world that truly knows you now,
Is the only one important to me.