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Life Is Worth Living
Piles of papers on the floor,
Color coded to master,
Eight hours a day to fiddle,
Oh, what a job to settle.
Lego toys and cereal crumbs,
Dirty clothes on the floor,
Piles of plates on the counter,
Oh, what a job thereafter.
But life goes on no matter what
Will it be in its deepest mystery,
And as we seek our own destiny,
We’ll trip and fall along the way.
Those of us who fell in to a pit,
Slum of poor among the poorest,
We strive life for what is best,
And what it’s worth than shame
There are dreams we believe,
Fractions of real and unreal,
Making our minds to wish more,
Things we cannot or do not have.
poem
by
Efren Petalver Carranza
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