All alive endured a birth.
All alive shall find their death.
What grants that interval between its worth?
Why for some is life so brittle, so bereft
of meaning, of satisfaction, of mirth?
What is it that imbues some lives with pleasure,
with happiness and contentment? Is it money,
the accumulation of great material wealth?
No, in a mansion of misery, hoards of treasure
provide scant comfort. The poor man thinks it funny,
yet the rich can know unhappiness. Is the key health?
Good health surely promotes satisfaction with life, but
neither guarantees nor is required for it. Could the secret
to contentment in life lie in loving others? Consider what
does unanswered love sow except sadness, emptiness to fret
the heart. To be loved by others - now here is a weapon to cut
through the problems in one’s life. Yet the unwavering love
of family and friends has failed to save all too many a man
from ruining his life. Religion and belief in Heaven Above
bring comfort and purpose to many, while others only can
find guilt and despair, with an afterlife remaining undreamt of.
Children! A source of unlimited joy may reside in one’s kids;
however, of family some people through divorce are gladly rid.
Pride in self, having the respect of one’s peers play a part,
yet make awfully lonely bedfellows. So, to the interval between
what bestows value? The answer to this, herein I cannot impart,
for what makes one life magnificent, another cruel and mean
lies not in a poem…but deep within each person’s heart.