Life Is Too Meaningful Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Life is too meaningful.
Too precious an experience,
To waste or quicken it.
Each moment of it given...
Is as fresh as those last moments passed.

It's not always a funfest.
Some seriousness is needed.
And misdeeds confessed put to rest!
Harboring anger and bitterness...
Makes little sense to defend.

Life is too meaningful.
Too precious an experience,
To waste or quicken it.
Each moment of it given...
Is as fresh as those last moments passed.

There are those who sit in a stubbornness.
Unwilling and unbending.
And putting an end to their own progress.
Hoping to find someone to understand their whins.
But no one takes that time to comprehend.
People have their own issues...
And many with no one who they can depend.

It's not always a funfest.
Some seriousness is needed.
And misdeeds confessed put to rest!
Harboring anger and bitterness...
Makes little sense to defend.

Life is too meaningful.
Too precious an experience,
To waste or quicken it.
Each moment of it given...
Is as fresh as those last moments passed.
And with or without anyone involved...
It comes as we know it!
And leaves us when it does,
To another place...
No one can now say,
They have been shown!

Life is too meaningful.
Too precious an experience,
To waste or quicken it.
Or to live it in conflicts unsolved,
To sit in misery to share or flaunt to flourish.
For purposes to discourage,
With the smothering of any good intention!