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Thursday, January 10, 2013

A poem about life



There was a young girl
Who couldn’t decide
What she ought to be

The time passed by
In the blink of an eye
And then she was 33.

“But I still don’t know
My purpose here”
She said to herself, irate.

She went to sleep,
Woke up again
And then she was 58.

She tried once more
To find her place
But no niche could be found

Next thing she knew
She was 92
And buried in the ground

When she crossed to
The other side
And looked back on her life

She saw that she’d
been many things:
A daughter, a mom, a wife

She’d laughed and loved
She’d been loved, too
Her presence would be missed

She finally saw
The purpose
Of her life was to exist.
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