I met a man on Paradise Lane,
An old grey man with hands
That trembled as he spoke.
He said, "I joke because
It's wise to cry, but wiser still
To laugh and let the sadness out."
I think of him now and then,
Whenever I sit by the fire
And warm my own old bones.
My life has come and gone,
I will not linger long, and still
I wonder why we're born at all.
Could it be the fall from grace
Has forced us all to earn our place
In heaven's congregation?
I don't know, but if that's so,
We'd better treat each other right
Or face a dark and endless night.
©2016 Michael Fraley
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