Life; Its Little Grant Of Time

By its very briefness
And in passing
Leaves nothing endless, otherwise
To grow wise in

Does this question invite
With impudence:
"Life, is that all there is?" Whilst left
With no offence!

A secret, smiled out
Death's gate behind:
"Here, by everlastingness
Am I defined".
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace