Daniel Isaac Gordon (January of 1982 / Queens, NY)
Eighty-six thousand, four hundred to live
To love and to hate, to take and to give
The choices you made, the things that you did
All become real as you lay down in bed.
Eighty-six thousand, four hundred to see
Just what kind of person you're aiming to be
The battles you've won, the quarrels you've lost
Have all taken place at a permanent cost.
Eighty-six thousand, four hundred to show
Just how much you feel and how little you know
The things that you want, the people you need
Are all there to help you to thrive and succeed.
Eighty-six thousand, four hundred in store
Leaves you still begging for only one more
If you’ve said what you ought, or just thought what to say
There are only so few precious seconds each day.
Comments about this poem (86,400 by Daniel Isaac Gordon )
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