LIFE
By V. Asante-Boadu

Life—a word that marks the beginning and the end,
The start and the finish, ever complex, ever bending.
Friendly and kind it can be, a warm embrace,
But for some, it's a distant friend,
Or the family member you'd rather not face.

It's a burden, a curse!
Yet, I love it—we love it.
Something given beyond our control,
Yet somehow, still in our hold.
Did we ask for it to be this way?

Life—
The question with no correct answer,
But there are so many wrong ones.
Decisions shape us, they shape me,
Oh, to be a team, life and I.
But no, brothers we are, fighting endlessly.
And life, stronger, always knocks me down.

"You're younger," they say, "you have years to get stronger."
A lie they tell before you hit puberty,
Lonely in a world overflowing with information,
Yet no guidance to navigate,
Given knowledge that leads to nowhere.
Books in classes that don’t teach,
When we need classes about books that truly reach.

Learning isn’t sitting in a room,
Screen and projector, pen and paper,
Taking notes on how to live—whatever that means.
It’s knowing that bad days are coming,
And accepting them with open arms.
Isn’t that right, Life?
My friend, my foe.
You must agree—you love giving hard lessons..

Why, Life?
Why make bad days worse,
And good days so fleetingly sweet?
Why be so sweet,
Yet so, so sour?

But I guess that’s you—
The question with no answer,
And so many wrong ones.
If you could speak, Life, what would you say?
Would you apologize? Perhaps.
But what would that change?

For we are alike—
Both similar and unique.

Life, you are the mirror I must face each day,
A mosaic of joy, pain, and growth on display.
You teach with silence, you guide with strife,
A bittersweet symphony that defines my life.

In your chaos, I find my strength,
In your trials, I find my way.
Though you knock me down, I rise anew,
For Life, it seems, you shape me, too.

So here we are, Life, you and I,
Bound together, until goodbye.
And when the time comes to part our ways,
I’ll thank you for the journey,
For the nights and the days.

Life—a word that marks the beginning and the end,
The start and the finish, ever complex, ever bending.
Friendly and kind it can be, a warm embrace,
Yet to some, a mirrored glance, reflecting truths we’re scared to face