Lives, some have more than a few
Others shall only experience one
Even the best won't always know what to do
Sometimes it's the lost who've really won
There are those few special souls among us
Fortunate they are to be
Their lives amount to a grand opus
One which many will not see
Lives so splendid and full of love
They gleefully prance around
Heads surrounded by the magic of the snow dove
Beauty in their eyes, all that can be found
Let's not forget the somber souls among the crowd
Their silence so meaningful as it loudly screams
Beneath quiet, their misery hidden below its shroud
They've spent many waking hours mourning the death of dreams
Their quiet and unknown lives are but a drop in the bucket of time
To them, they last forever and a day
What happened that left them beneath the stench of life's grime
Life happened is all one can say
Life is akin to a game of cards, and it sometimes is a dirty dealer
But all one can do is play the cards dealt to you
That applies from pauper to magician and from politician to healer
Anyone who breathes knows this is all you can do
Some stories are happy, and some are quite sad
In a world filled with tales of the grand and the bold
Truths surrounding our souls can drive us quite mad
To worry only making the truths speed up, we're all to get old
Each story worthy of remembering on some page or paper upon a shelf
But who will remember their names
As immortality belongs not to those who find a magic elf
But to those who will be remembered after they've played life's games
So be bold and do not expect all to be dealt with a sense of what's fair
Treat not one day with ignorance and make them all matter
Before some know it, the days are numbered, and it's all unfair
And none want to end alone in a home so quiet, except for winds clatter
Show up when you can
Be present for all things beautiful and sad
Live each story in your life the best that one can
Remember, always, it's up to you to be glad
Be proud of your tale
Not how it ended
But that you lived it, succes or a fail
You weren't one of those who bended
About the Creator
Jason Ray Morton
Writing has become more important as I live with cancer. It's a therapy, it's an escape, and it's a way to do something lasting that hopefully leaves an impression.
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Comments (1)
Sonder--the realization that everyone's story is as complex as my own & that everyone is indeed the center or MC of their own story. Yet all shall eventually be forgot, with some only evanescing a bit more slowly than others.