Don't live treacherously with an untrustworthy heart,
don't have eyes as sharp as knives cutting
spiritually to the bone with jealousy and contempt
upon everyone you gaze.
Don't live out your days to connive, despise, or otherwise
hurt your neighbor, don't spend this life,
as brief as a dream, giving another human being
any source of perplexing grief.
When income is spent like long forgotten youth,
when friends acquiesce to the grave,
when your charitable deeds cannot compare
to the desperation of your current needs,
when your choices are few and none of them pleasant,
at least, have the confidence of a good conscience,
that you did your best to enhance this place
for the ephemeral moment you inhabited it.
5: 17AM 10-13-2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem