Life is a bunch of projects,
things to do until dead,
an endless potpourri
of hustle and hurry,
a do this, no,
do that instead.

I absolutely fathom
the secrets of this life.
It’s an endless array
of prodigious forays,
a nettling vexation
of strife.

And when a long day is over,
after all of my pain,
I go to bed tired,
having lost all my fire
then wake up and do it again.

I want breakfast, lunch and dinner,
and something between to do,
and then when I die,
I’ll give a high-five,
and rot in a plot near you.

NICE

THE PURPOSE OF LIFE IS EXACTLY WHAT EACH OF US

BELIEVES IT TO BE....IT CAN BE HEAVEN OR HELL ITS

OUR CHOICE FOR EACH OF US TO MAKE.......EVERY THING

A PERSON DOES EFFECTS EACH AND EVERY PERSON AROUND

THEM WEATHER THEY KNOW IT OR NOT.....

Nice poem .