Poetry

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All’s Yet the Same

‘The stakes are high and life speeds past’
Is what I’m told by all the wise.
My days have numbers, so do yours.
I wake, again, all’s yet the same…

More skilled at wasting time than most…
Burn it like a child’s last dollar-
As if I had a countless store.
I wake, again, all’s yet the same…

Frivolity is my best friend-
America has taught me well.
Complacency rocks me to sleep-
I wake, again, all’s yet the same…

Jesus, where are the talents you lent-
Hidden safely in the dust-
Or have they grown and multiplied?
I wake, again, all’s yet the same…

Death and Eternity are Real!
Why do I live as if they’re farce?
My hair is thinner, soon will grey…
I wake, again, all’s yet the same…

If we could ask those in the grave
And they could answer back, they’d say
‘Life never was a game!’
I wake, again, all’s yet the same…
All’s yet the same…

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