Life Poem by Emmanuel Odei Oduro

Life is not a bed of roses
Life is full of ups and downs
Life, they say, is what you make it
Or, maybe, how you make it

But it seems to me rather curious
Why a greater group of God's creations
Would choose to make their lives
Bumpy, lumpy and clumpy
Instead of bouncy and bubbly

Some clearly act carelessly
Do things remarkably recklessly
Never learning from their bloopers
Always blooming in their bloomers
Making for themselves
Lives lined with lack
Presences padded with pointless poverty
Life is palpably how they play it

But what about those humans
Who loyally lead their lives
Striving to do the right things
Actually doing them perfectly
Yet try, very hard, as they could
Find themselves, struggling
To get disentangled
From life's strangling

Is life how they made it?
Is life as they like it?

Questions begging for answers
But it seems that poet is right
He wrote: some men are born great
Others achieve greatness
While others have greatness thrust upon them

Life is thus not only how you make it
But also how you are helped to make it
The funding firstly from the Father
Then furthermore from the world
Parents, family, friends or others

Whatever the source of the support
Proper purpose is primary
To reaping the required reward
And enhancing your life

But one thing seems crystal clear
No matter what one does
Born with silver spoon in mouth
Or born unto a mound
Life is seldom a smooth situation
It is a war of many worries
It is a race on a tedious track
With Life's rumples really revealed
When a person travels that trail

Life is not our type of race
What counts with life's race
Is the resolve with which you race
And whether you complete the chase
Finishing gallantly is winning
This qualifies you for an accolade

As many as finish the course
Are thus worthy winners
In life's challenging race
Complete the course with zest
And cross the line with zeal
That is what certainly counts.
It will make you to be counted