You have a choice

From time to time I'm inclined to write poetry, when the mood is right, or the emotion strong enough, I break into verse. I thought I would post a poem I wrote last year, after reading the paper and hearing of another death, which was just a footnote.

This is my poem, called You Have A Choice:

Think of how many people die

Without even a tear cried

No sorrow, no anguish

Think of those whose blood is shed

On empty streets

Desolate, their life one big defeat

Think of those

Who have no funeral bells

No coffin, no farewell

Think of the tortured

Dieing in agony

Their last breath a welcome relief

What tragedy to die alone

What tragedy to die without a home

To die without grace

No smile on your face

Think of those who die without a headline

Without even a column inch

No words of remembrance

Think of those who can’t grieve in peace

Without a body to see

Never put at ease

Think of all those souls laid to rest

Of all those who die each second,

Each minute

Of each day

For those who no-one cared for

Who lived lives no-one saw

For those who were poor in heart

And for the little ones who never even got a start

Think of how precious your life is

How delicate it can be

One second a flower

The next lost in the breeze

One minute afloat

The next lost at sea

One day a mighty oak

The next a fallen tree

Take the time to look

To care, to enjoy life before it’s no longer there

Take the time to give thanks for what you’ve got

Before you have not

Cherish every moment that brings you joy

And each one that doesn’t be grateful you’re alive

And that someone cares

That you’ll have a funeral

That you’ll die with grace

Because so many pass by

Without a tear, without a cry

So many whither like autumn leaves

So many pass dieing in their sleep

So many restless souls losing life

For those with bullet holes and knife wounds

Dead by violence

For those dead through silence

Unloved and uncared for

For those dead and no-one knows why

The facts never resolved

And their story never told

What of those ordered to be killed?

A life worth nothing to someone else

What of those left behind?

Every moment a memory

Every life a treasure

We were made to bring someone pleasure

We are not made to die without making a difference

Without having a voice

So in the way you live your life

YOU HAVE A CHOICE!