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Poem

Born in seconds yet gone in a flash,
Spent cherished with family or accruing vast cash,
Some fill with the glory of life,
Other remain as scars reminiscent of strife,
Some cling to those which left sooner,
Causing the soul to pick up gloom like a refined fine tuner,
Patience is required for those that we are waiting for,
Like waiting eagerly inside to burst out an open door,
Clarity to understand those dark few,
Feeds the soul like well-kept grass and morning dew,
Amnesia to forget the most painful lots,
Since only the hatefully corrupt try revenge plots,
Time to enjoy those that are precious to many or just some,
Which stick to our minds like shoes to old aged used gum,
Compassion when we need to understand others' troubles,
For misunderstandings reportedly only make the issues double,
Love to hold on that which makes up ourselves,
As the compilations of others' and ours moments stock our lives' shelves.

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