The Book of T.J.

From the womb I came to play life’s game,

And the world heard my first cry.

Did I begin to live just then,

Or did I begin to die?

 

Through the years and through the tears,

Will death steal away my soul?

Or will death come nigh when the blue sky,

Turns black as Satin’s coal?

 

Will the movement of strife throughout my life,

Help the mission to be filled?

Like the tears I let just for my pet,

When I saw my cat get killed.

 

Does grief and pain put extra strain,

On a soul that once was strong?

Or will the specter of death draw a deeper breath,

When a love affair goes wrong?

 

Does a break in heart grow farther apart,

When a loved one slips away?

Is this the plan to limit man,

To a certain number of days?

 

Then is sudden death just a myth,

And I’m dying all the while?

If this be so then when I go,

I’ll leave this earth in style.

 

I feel no rage whatever page

Of life’s book I am on.

For I’m just a guy who will die,

Then I will be gone.

This entry was posted on Saturday, July 05 2008 and is filed under Poetry.