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that's it

by Peter Humphreys

I do not know
or shall I know
the measure of my life

is it that I wrote a bit

is it that I tried to be good
well most of the time

is it that I was loved
and loved to the limits of my heart

is it that I walked too many paths
to find the one path fitting me

is it that I joked too much
at times most serious
when the dead could not laugh back

is it that I loved my crazy home
where people still talked
and not treated as mad for it

or is it that I simply loved
the quiet, the lonely, the open places
where the heart nay soul could fly
unhindered in the western breeze
above the storming sea

yes
that's it

11/05/2015

Posted on 11/05/2015
Copyright © 2019 Peter Humphreys

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 11/05/15 at 12:21 PM

I think the measure of a man begins at birth but it doesn't end at death, given he has left considerable impressions behind as will have him loved and reminisced and discussed till time immemorial.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 11/05/15 at 12:33 PM

what better measuring device is there, than love? as long as one has loved and been loved, suffices a man to be measured in the full.

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