The Art Of Living Poem by Goddy Nana Mens

How do I tell if I lived?
Is life about the gold I wore?
Or about the love I swore?
Is life about how many hearts I touched?
Or for my people, the wars I fought?
Did I hurt or did I heal?
Did I give or did I steal?
Did I love?
Did I truly, truly love?
Will I be remembered with a deep, deep frown?
Or will I be remembered with a smile so fond?

Even though we were born alone
Even though we will leave alone
Life is best lived with another
The wealth, fame, slaves and power
Are worth naught come the final hour
In the end, all we can ever take along
Is a single rose stalk steeped in love
For our troubles, all we shall ever own
Is a beautiful epitaph above our bones
Remember, the jeweled moments and gild memories
Are worth more than a thousand rubies

I crave to be ever remembered
I wish my works be always read
But Life is not about the rewards and awards
It is the about beauty of truly giving it all
History is not written on pages and a cover
History is written in hearts of brothers and a lover

With no certainty of what lies after here
Our only choice is to live and be free
Life is love
And I just want to live.