What’s Best?

As soon as I reach the best age

I will break out of my cage

I’ll tear down the door, throw it to the floor

And spend the last of my rage

 

What then might I have to say?

When free to speak as I may

What wrongs would I right, which battles to fight?

How can I know the best way?

 

For freedom brings many choices

Amidst conflicting voices

Only one path is true, the best thing to do

Bring peace so the world rejoices

The March of Time

Today’s date is made of numbers

Though not traced to a true Day 1

Did time begin with the first Big Bang?

Or the lighting of our sun?

 

Did our own clocks start with a birthday?

Or nine months before in the womb?

While Earth spins and marks days passing

Tick-tock, toward the tomb

 

Every second left us is precious

Wanting neither good nor ill

A fragment of a lifetime

To be bent to serve one’s will

The Happy Road

When troubles hang about the shoulders

Weighing down like heavy boulders

Think then of some better days

When life and fate led other ways

Ahead, your road has twists and turns

But not all are bad for one who learns

There’s always chance to change direction

With careful thought and more reflection

Every life has ups and downs

Each their share of smiles and frowns

Look to yourself, no other’s load

To seek and find the happy road

Conscience

Who can, with lens of sincere mind

Deny wrongdoing in their lives?

Were that all could ever be kind

No erring in our archives

 

Some set out with clear intent

To bring about the mischief

Most do not have that wicked bent

But still bring others grief

 

For those who wear that latter hat

Then learn what others see

Time gnaws at conscience as a rat

Dining on misery

Wisdom

When I am really old….

I will finally understand:

  • Solutions to paradoxes and enigmas

  • Truths politicians dare not speak

  • Mysteries of the ocean floor

  • Limits of the universe

  • A unifying theory of everything

  • Man’s inhumanity to man

  • The purpose of being

These answers should come with great age.

If I can be just be patient and here for a little longer……!

Choices

Which sea denies the pull of the moon?

What puppet dances to its own tune?

A barbed and chastening valentine

No choice at all; the fault’s all mine

Could do better, the report card says

But how to change one’s errant ways?

Alas, some choices can’t be mended

Outcome’s not as was intended.

Each act’s curtain draws to a close

Why it matters, none other knows