I debate my part in life.
Was there a reason
for this endless rhyme?
The meaning camouflaged
with transcendent lies.
It seems strange now,
that after all the wrongs
I have suffered,
and made others suffer,
that I get this second chance.
I am grateful though,
for each moment
you give me.
Love without question,
peace without struggle,
hope without end.

Do I deserve this?
Have I repented enough?
A dead reckoning must
be around the corner.
Not that I want this to end,
and it’s more than I deserve.
Until then, all I can do
is give you what I can.
All that I am.
I don’t know if it’s enough,
if I’m made of the-right-stuff.
But, I’ll keep going,
pushing through
because my life with you
is more than I could ask for.
You’re my imitation
of life forevermore.

Poem © Phen Weston, 2014.


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