Shalom Freedman (Troy New York)

All these games
I make with words and poems
Will play for a short time
And then go away as if they never were

I am not a child anymore
But I am still lost in games I do not wish to play
‘Where is Reality? ’ I once wondered
And wonder still
As I close in
my own grave

The simple Beauty of Life
Must keep us alive
As long as we can

Then let the Silence play its melody
And God be the Judge Forever