Life is to love.
Life is to be praised.
Life is to hate.
Life is to be condemned.
Life begins with birth;
Life ends with death.
Life is lived. How?
I can’t tell you now!
Life is an ocean;
I am at the shore.
Life is to be lived;
I have no oar.
Life, thou art reposeful,
With honey-dew and grass, too cool.
Life, thou art mysterious,
With, situations joyous and serious.
Life, thou have merry,
With wine and Cherry.
Life, thou have worry,
With bread and curry.
Life, thou art what?
For me and the rout?
Life, thou art why?
To make us sob and cry?
Life, thou art how?
By making them poise & we to bow?
Life, why He gave birth to you?
To make us pray for death, lick the dirt, or woo?
If that be so,
I take a Vow –
To solve the mystery,
Shed off the misery.
To sometimes but repose:
None close, except a Rose.
To leave the shore,
Make hands my oar.
To live life lively, have merry,
No Wine, only Cherry.
To never worry,
But when the world is scary & weary.
To live with the clergy and the scout,
Often with the rout.
To fly up & high in the sky,
Never allow them to wry.
To stand erect,
Make their posture perfect.
To live till the end,
Whatever be the trend.
To try my Best,
And ‘Leave the Rest’.
