What gives life meaning and what essence strives
Within that frame of time from birth to death;
What purposed focus steeped in years comprise
The joy of drawing every meted breath?
Some in their diligence sole lust for fame
While yet for others wealth’s the measured best,
The wicked to rot wide destruction claim;
The good to proud benevolence lay quest.
The common man exists to simply be
And venerates the path of lesser fray,
Where hope’s allure is better days to see
While slowly slogging to an ordained grave;
Still all that truly matters, stock and store
Lies in the blood ahead, and that afore.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Loubert S Suddaby poems 