See I can’t help but feel I have lived a couple more lives than one is granted. A couple more second chances.
Was once a brutal king with a sceptre dark and grim. And I walked along the city streets, bashing heads and eating sweets. That’s a life I must have lived for the second one, i honestly could not have dreamed.
I was a church mouse full of prayer, a class-act failure. “Nothing to see here”, nothing but hunger and fear. The intensity of my faith, such a saint with am empty plate.
I then became a spoilt child,a child full of pride. The pride before the fall. The actual physical fall. An assault to the spine…sadly I wasn’t fine.
A caring teacher,the kids loved that i told stories about love and creatures. I taught them how to say A to Z, taught them how to bake their bread. I gave them the keys to unlock the world, to restore their worth.
I was a mental patient and my mind was loud and awfully impatient. I said things and people wagged heads,then they shot the messenger with bullets full of lead.
An athletic Olympian, with arms of steel and strength you could feel. I was running away from all the bullies, how they laughed at me like I was foolish. Always running,I couldn’t stop. Was hard to cope.
I was a father…I remember nothing.
I was a mother…my kids grew up too fast.
Sailing the world; I explored the very sands of time, drank lots of good Italian wine. I found eternity in mortality and that was perfect sanity.
I was a soldier stuck on the warfront, a battleground with no hope. Couldn’t see my baby laugh, fall, run or crawl. Protecting my country, I lost it all.
Perhaps the greatest life I ever lived was this one,it seems. A life full of promise, the present not the past, for I have few regrets, few enough to be forgotten. Few enough to get lost in.