Poetry
The Life Well Lived 5/14/25
Is this not what life is about?
Ups and downs that betray us all.
The pain from the loneliness,
The sorrow from being ignored.
The solitary life alone with some despair,
The friend appears to offer support.
The sheer beauty of the words and phrases,
The ugly depths of sad betrayal.
The mind that lingers on and on,
The pursuit of truth that never stops.
The life of fulfillment from the best of allies,
The frustration from the apathy of those so close.
The capture of art that lingers everywhere,
The drive to express that cannot end.
The exhilaration from the active move,
The cringing of the injury that maligns.
The future so hard to guess and foretell,
The agony of our failures to save this world.
The forge ahead to find the best path,
The doubt that follows the road less traveled.
The goals that come and that go,
Those unfulfilled that mess the mind.
The choices made through the day and night,
The end appears sometimes with regret.
The expect that never goes away,
The empty result one must accept.
The guilt that hangs like a heavy cloud,
The release that comes as one forgives.
The anger that appears both day and night,
The surprise that makes for such a shock.
The harmony from the perfect conversation,
The words that die from the silent response.
The voice that grows and the tone turns dark,
The response that fails to end the moment of tense.
The inspire that turns the sand to gold,
The truth unfolds with the passing of time.
The unexpected connection that feels just right,
The expected rebuff that feels so wrong.
The separation that chills the spine,
The intimate smile that warms the heart.
The saga alone to love to the utmost,
The pressure with all to conform.
The strive to be perfect that goes and goes,
The failure that shows its ugly head.
The movement so fast it stirs the bone,
The tranquility so slow it stills the breath.
The choices made that have such effect,
The rights and wrongs that are forever.
The challenge to do what is right,
The regret that comes from what is wrong.
The longing that hurts more and more,
The cure that saves one from despond.
The music moves up from the soul,
The passion comes alive with ease.
The aging that goes on and on,
The life that appears and then is gone.
The fear of death is hard to accept,
The play will end of its own accord.
And so my story ends this way,
And so I say adieu to all who pass.
All the best to everyone!
Bob
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