Some close friends think that I'm addicted,
Fear both verse and rhyme afflicted!
Just don't get it! "Wasting time! "
But poetry! Is that a crime?
I'm guilty! Yes! What's lost to them?
I'm stupid too if sharing's whim!
Is time best spent, life's form just motion,
Destination only ocean,
Where one swims (is health sole goal)?
Does staying strong then make one whole?
A soul that's fit what I'd pursue
And Grace, in faith, I trust my due.
Might staying fit too steal from life
That won't look toward death's future wife,
No thought of those he leaves behind
Who might find gain perchance in mind,
A poem shared, the afterlife he dared
To dream no rout! My poem's trout
That might feed souls of yet unborn,
The living's love I'd not suborn
By flattery, I'm what you see.
Let me embrace the fate I own!
Bribe God? I'd not atone
For failures that I've made in fact,
Though some might think that I lack tact.
May good I do help some find Grace,
Till blessed by Love all see God's face!