Tuesday 16 July 2013

SONNET XLII – THE DEBT

for me to live, some other life must die
I’m living still, but I have never learned
the answer to the simple question: why
such sacrifice for life I haven’t earned
for every little thing my days require
the food and drink, and all my other needs
are wasted gifts, like flowers on a pyre
if there’s no real profit in my deeds
the finish line is looming in the race
but let my crossing over be delayed
if I can make the world a better place
then maybe this great debt might be repaid
   I owe so much to gracious mother earth
   perhaps she knows how much I’m truly worth

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