Shall I compare life to a deep regret,
A flower that blooms, or one that fades away?
Or should it most effectively be set
As a trial which lingers day by day?
The world is but a courtroom life creates;
Where weary wanderers plot their common case;
Where will is judge and conscience often dies
And decisions are made at a hurried pace.
But life enthralls a greater deal than this.
For is it not our goals and attitudes
Which brings us to our day's enlightened bliss
And makes us wiser in the fortunes viewed?
If jurors of our cases we could be
Then surely life's fulfillment we could see.
(c)Gwen Beauregard - 1956 - All Rights Reserved
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