Real Gifts – A Poem

How typical of us

That we try and over-stuff christmas

So we can try and extract

The maximum mythical happiness

 

Around a festival

That at its end

Focuses

On a man’s death

 

When I die

I want to see a smile

As friends hold the joy

Of my being ever alive

 

When I die

I hope somebody cries

I hope I at least touched

One life that much

 

We must not strive

Only for smiles

But accept that real gifts

Bring both joy and sadness

 

A sadness that makes us weep

And in so doing cleanses eyes

Saves us from living asleep

In grinning half-lives

Advertisements

7 thoughts on “Real Gifts – A Poem

Add yours

You can tell me anything (yes, even that!)

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

... on being and becoming ...

... a mobius faith blog ...

faceatthewindow

the inside, and outside, of my head

Gabriela LeBarón

Stories Poetry Art Opinion

Poetry on the run

a poet's search for poetry

nobodysreadingme

Writers write. The rest make excuses.

Ramblings From A Mum

This is my journey, my thoughts, my views, plain and simple and from my heart. Please travel with me and share, hopefully it will be an interesting trip.

%d bloggers like this: