We all have a story we write.
One that concerns not only our lives;
but the decisions we made
and the choices we had.
This story is no fairy tale.
there is a fifty-fifty percent rate of a happy ending.
We all write this story with the hope that oneday, someday
a tale will be told;
a tale in which we are not only the tellers,
but also the story itself.
Yes indeed, our life is a story.
One we write every blessed day.
and although the end is uncertain,
we just keep writing.
The ink is never dry,
neither does the paper run out.
It's a story filled with stories.
and we - are just the writers...
with a lot of altered moods.
Mifa words's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (the story by Mifa words )
- One Mode of Mortal Devotion, William Park
- Glow worm, Mark Heathcote
- FOOT STEPS, Harold R Hunt Sr
- The Highest Human Virtue Surprisingly Is.., Mr. Nobody
- Time Marches on, Harold R Hunt Sr
- Our First Day, Harold R Hunt Sr
- Another Day, Harold R Hunt Sr
- Who Am I?, Harold R Hunt Sr
- A letter to you, Harold R Hunt Sr
- What are moms made of?, Harold R Hunt Sr
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