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Short poem, about living, risks and reaping what you sow. |
Written for
PROMPT: Write a POEM (rhyming or free verse, your choice) that begins with this line: "In the graveyard of risks not taken..." Remember to keep to the 40 line limit. Taking it to the Grave In the graveyard of risks not taken The body’s spirit will rest in total discontent Buried in the shabby robes of eternal regret If only, should have, and maybe so A chorus of pitiful excuses grant Shameful permission to the flesh What if, why didn’t I, and Whatever for Questions failed to entice or be explored Before it is too late, and the soul is forced to go Wishes, Wants, and Maybe I will A dead-man’s hand Drawn in the final deal Would I, May I, and think that I could? The answers are contained in experience, and Found in the risks taken while playing life’s game. |