You must login to vote
What a wasted space we’ve kept
If all our lifelong time we’ve slept...
If idleness is dying’s due
Then naught of us has left a clue.
Our passing fades, as even’s throng
We leave unknown our living’s song.
Do not think my path is vain
For in its grip I became sane
I saw in trials – meanings deep
And there I sluiced my gems to keep:
Knowledge, won by work and wear;
Courage found by toil and care;
Hope was gained by faith in prayer;
Victory known, by being there!
When I am gone... a gift I leave
That by my words you might receive
Without the toil, angst or pain...
In just a poem; wisdoms' gain!