Good afternoon my friend! I promise not to keep you long today as I'm certain if it is as beautiful here as it is there that you'd rather be out enjoying it than stuck inside. I found this one as I was sifting through some other paperwork I recently found. I wrote it just over six years ago now; around the time I was getting clean from my addiction. If this is your first visit I encourage you to catch up on my experiences to give it a better context. A good place to start is here. I hope you enjoy today's poem. Thank you all for your continued support and encouragement. I cannot express my gratitude enough; you provide me much joy.
Will I
Will I save the human race?
Will I fall upon my face?
Will I ever find a wife?
Will I live a healthy life?
Will I know what's right or wrong?
Will I help a friend along?
Will I make the right decision?
Will I ever lose my vision?
Will I lose my will to live?
Will I have a gift to give?
Will I hurt the one's I love?
Will I die and go above?
Will I be jailed and locked away?
Will I make it through today?
All these thoughts inside my head,
Will haunt me 'till the day I'm dead.
But one question beats inside me still:
Will I make the most of life? Yes; I will.
Making The Most Of Life |
-John Thibeau 16/Feb/2006
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John - here is life from the other end :
ReplyDeleteI am so old
I am so old
That I have an uncle
who died in the Civil War
I and my mother each
the last child of old parents
I am so old
that my parents wedding
included a chivaree
to certify consummation
In the community’s interest
I am so old
that the parental village
carried my mother and father to bed
and listened at the door
with ribald jokes
I am so old
that villagers wouldn’t leave
but drank and danced
and demanded to see the bloody sheet
and dad killed a chicken just in case
I am so old
that the field, forest and creek
beside my house,
as far as the eye could see
have been paved
for half a century
I am so old
that my father
built the church
that has now fallen down
and the little bank that closed
I am so old
that the Air Corps bombing
of striking miners
could be seen and heard
in person
I am so old
that I once thought
women were reluctant
to make love
I am so old
That remembering
is
Who I am
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
David Williams