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Paul F Clayton
Poems
Jul 2012
Epitaph
Walking in the dead of night
Almost apprehensive of the sky
Stars sparkle in the black expanse
Black clouds go rolling by
As a cool breeze falls upon him
So too does a notion
That life is brief and fleeting
Like a wave upon the ocean
Then he must stand tall
Look the world in the eye
Master his own destiny
Not dwell on how or why
For this is not a dress rehearsal
He shall only have one shot
To make his mark forever
With the best that he has got
And if his best amounts to nothing
At least he will have tried
And that shall be his epitaph
After he has died
Written by
Paul F Clayton
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