I’ve been given a live sentence of a few years
Multiplied by how many more since I became
A team player in this life with all of my kind?
I’m reminded that we are not of the same mind.
No two of us are quite alike, yet we’re the same
In the prison of life marked by sorrow and fears.
Some of us who’ve grown older have done very well.
I myself have done good things. No one denies that.
My time spent learning how to be human becomes
Something short of catastrophe and zero sums.
And by now I may think that I have life down pat.
But alas, I am captive within my own cell.
I’ll complete my life sentence in less time or more
Depending on whose judgement? Or is it by fate
That consecutive sentencing is concurrent
To the soul become weary from deep discontent?
No time off given for good behavior I rate.
When my sentence is done with, what then is in store?
That will not be a thing of my utmost concern.
Even if consciousness ceases, sorrow does too.
And should it survive brilliantly cast from its shell
It will soar like a most graceful bat out of hell
Into peaceful reflection. How well did I do?
No one here can advise me. In heaven I’ll learn.