The Jewel
Our brief existence on this marbled sphere
Is meaningless unless we treasure life.
The jewel, love, is obviously rare.
Its importance is great: A man and wife,
A country, town or city knows for sure
Without its presence everything must die.
If hate prevails then war is what’s in store.
It sates itself on humanities cries.
Alas! Our souls are wandering through space-
Our beings on borrowed time, few morrows.
Today? - Almost the past! So embrace
Another day, toast to end mans sorrows.
And keep in mind that time is running short.
Expressing love is Mans only comfort.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
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