First cometh life.
Then cometh death.
From the dawn of conception.
To the very last breath.
Between is experience.
Carried to ride.
Each day perchance different.
For you to decide.
A plan.
A scheme.
Makes you scream.
Makes you cry.
Wonder why.
As life's river meanders.
You go with the flow.
The purpose of life?
Well, I truly don't know.
Sometimes grateful.
Others hateful.
Sometimes a giggle.
Often stuck in the middle.
Getting a wriggle on.
Not by choice.
Saturday morning.
And I'm losing my voice.
(c)LIVVI