How should I recite my life?
Was it a full sentence
or was it parted in two?
Did it entail big words
or meaningless clichés
shouting carpe diem?
Did it have depth
or did length bare it out?
Did it trip on punctuations
or did it flow painlessly?
Which parts lingered on tongues?
What orders did it give?
Did it fade among greater
paragraphs or was it magnificent?
How should I recite my life?
Should I clothe it in borrowed
metaphors or should I simply
read it out loud, word by word,
stress the culminations, the loud parts,
give extra sound to the little words?
Was it a meaningful sentence?
Will it linger on and get carried
in the mouths of men?
Will it serve as a citation for
great living; or will it simply be
forgotten as the sentence ends,
the last syllable is whispered
and the full stop
is finally
engraved.