We stand by those we trust,
All the while they transgress against us.
Friend or foe to behold?
For only they will surely know.
Trust someone in this day and age
Is nothing more than a noble cliché.
Slanderous words of dishonesty,
Destroying your character with their brutality.
The world believes them as they lie,
Who can one trust in this earthly enterprise?
Longing for the days of old
When men were men, as good as gold.
I long for days where a handshake meant
Your word a bond, and honor felt.
Agreements made without paper convention;
Handshakes were the business transaction.
Honor flowed throughout the lands,
Everyone gave a helping hand.
A favor wasn’t done for return,
As a friend indeed was someone earned.
Days of past will not return
As immoral acts are loved and learned.
Handshakes, a thing of the past,
Your word, a thing that no longer lasts.
Days of Past by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse