The journey of life begins
when we are born,
and ends when we die,
but it is the years in between,
that matter the most.
Within those years our character,
is born and thrives.
The way we live our lives,
and the way
we web our lies.
The good we do to others,
the hurt we all retain,
and sacrifices that we make,
and the mistakes
in which we partake.
The love we give,
so freely,
expecting nothing in return.
The honour of our lives,
that so brightly burns.
The wrong roads we walk,
but the right roads we choose,
the hands we hold out,
for helping,
so glad they are not refused.
The journey of life
is the one we walk,
and the choices we all make,
each and every day,
are there waiting for us on our judgement day.
Philopsophical eloquence is what we are graciously treated to here, on this early Saturday morning, (EXTREMELY EARLY, ON THIS SIDE OF OLE' ATLANTIC) by one Mr. David Harris....And how fortunate we be...Solid Work, my friend, indeed... FjR
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful......I for one am glad are paths crossed on our own journeys.......your definitely heading in the right direction......me? .......: O)