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Created on: December 19, 2007
"Why?"
Ours is not to reason why,
Ours is but to do and die.
For life is all that means anything;
and death, all the fruit that life can bring.
Do as you will, and do as you must.
Be true to the truth, for all will be dust.
The end is beggining, though there is much time,
and decieving one's self is the only true crime.
Regret is all that can wound, Hope is all that can heal,
Love is all we can do, Change is all we can feel
Now, what was the question?
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Poetry: Meaning of life
by Brian Benson
WHEN I WAS A LITTLE BOY.....I GREW UP FAST
When I was a little boy
We played from dawn til dark
Chasing baseballs hit aloft
In
The meaning of Life I ponder
How can good conquer evil? I often wonder
To make a difference I must
By showing of love and
your dragonfly
the beautiful nuisance
I dreamed myself to be
has stayed too long
passed waking
to be of worth to anyone
who resides
Life is a Mirrage
I hear your whispers
I feel your kisses
But it all seems like a dream
With every moment passing
And every secret
A questioned pondered by many, understood by a few
Our purpose, meaning, reason for being,
What were we created to do?
View All Articles on: Poetry: Meaning of life
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