6 Jun 2020

What am I doing here - a poem


What am I doing here – June 2020

The road that I travel is made out of gravel
Never was I told it would be streets of gold
It would be dull indeed if there was no need
or if there was no more I could suffer for
Losing my drive to try and survive
Would imply that I am ready to die
I have to hold fast till my calling is past
and cling to all things which meaning me brings
To let go will not solve how I should revolve
into a creature of use free from abuse
to serve creation in selfless elation
to maintain and uphold this Kingdom so bold
A Kingdom for those who want to stay close
to God and to Man in His ultimate plan
while holding His sway over domains far away
Some people have all at their beg and their call
But suffer much more for the things they adore
as it deprives them of peace without any release
struggling to beat the men in the street
who may never yearn for riches to earn
but are always content until life do end
having more than they need to clothe and to feed
It's a waste of time and not worth a dime
A coffin isn't tall and a pall's pockets' small
nor can your wealth buy you good health
until the bells for you toll and they call up the roll.

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