Let no moss grow upon your heart –
When I have turned to dust, the art
Of loving doesn’t have to die.
The art is now in living. Why
Withhold your heart from life and joy?
Go out and grab it! Don’t play coy,
Or guilty, no, that’s even worse –
Your heart’s a sports car, not a hearse!
So scatter ashes from the box
And don your smile, pull up your socks.
Your life is yours – you write the plot –
So, LIVE, and show them what you’ve got.
No comments:
Post a Comment