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Your Helm of LifeSometimes life makes no sense, True worth in dollars and cents; As it seems like time passes by, Makes it leave you asking why. Filled with trials and tribulations, Not much pleasure or jubilations; No real purpose in having a goal, For to be satisfying to your soul. Maybe your biggest of all fears, It only lasts for about eighty years; And then your life will terminate, Virtually impossible to negotiate. Then your body begins to wear out, Maybe your heart without a doubt; No longer in shape as use to be, Loss of hearing and harder to see. Maybe Christ is not in your life, Causing you the toils and strife; You will know of the next realm, When allowing God at your helm. Richard Newton Sherrer Copyright ©2006 Richard Newton Sherrer Vote for this poem
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