Life's a book written through,
Where the pages are the years.
There's good, evil, false, and true,
With laughter, sweat, and tears.
Our days are songs composed by God,
As we set them to music with pleasure.
His cup of life is for us to drink,
Though, He, decides the measure.
Hurried and worried, dawn till dusk,
There's no time for a curtain call.
We burn our candles from both ends,
And we 're lucky to be alive at all.
Cards are shuffled and hands are dealt,
For all to place their bets.
Youthful blunders, adulthood struggles,
And old age, with its regrets.
It matters not, how long we live,
But more, how well we play our part.
For the road to heaven is always near,
As long as there's truth in our heart.
~ Tom Zart ~
[ by: Tom Zart Copyright © 2005 -- submitted by: Tom Zart (email@example.com) ]
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