LIFE
BY ANNA STRATE
A hug, a smile, a gentle kiss,
If I were gone tomorrow these I’d miss.
When in life I took for granted.
Those in death are all abandoned.
Where do we go when we die?
Not being scared would be a lie.
Do we come back in another life?
Reliving so much pain and strife.
Why does this seem so bleak?
I feel sickly, frail and weak.
Brand me a cynic if you dare.
I know things aren’t always fair.
Copyright 1999