In this poem, I talk about life. I try to talk about quality of life (subjective). For arguments sake, if I use my current ripe old age of 31 as a marker for one life, then in theory if I live to 93, that’s like living three lives.
No matter how many years or months or days we have left, we need to make a choice. We certainly can’t control many of the external factors that will affect how long we live (sad but true). However, we are empowered to control how we spend each day. Just breathing, or actually living.
I’m not saying that we need to lead a super exciting sky diving type of life. I’m just trying to say that we should cherish and enjoy the simple pleasure of life. Instead of watching TV, we could be playing with our kids or going for a nice walk with our significant other, or participating in club or activity that is close to our hearts. The possibilities are endless, to engage our minds and engage with others. To be challenged. To experience new things and emotions. To cry. To laugh. Let’s not waste our time. Let’s not work so much just to fuel our over excessive consumerism. This is not intended to be lecture. These words are meant to be a reminder to myself.
One or Three Lives
Strong and relatively healthy,
I’m thirty one!
Boring routine,
that rising sun.
Let’s contemplate life,
for a split second.
Under ideal conditions,
I’ll see 93, I’ve reckoned.
From this moment,
that’s three lives
Things like nutrition and exercise,
for countless souls it drives.
But does it matter
if we live that long?
If we don’t have a
favourite song?
If I sit her for a thousand years,
staring at the box and drinking a million beers
Would it really matter?
If my entire body,
would suddenly shatter.
Of course not!
We’re not here to rot!
Wouldn’t life be much more
dear?
If we cherished,
every year?
Sure 93 would be nice,
But I’d prefer 31,
with love and spice.
We’ll never predict,
our coffin cries.
I’ll treat each morning,
like I won a prize!
by Martin Dejnicki
