This Is Life

Starts like the rising big sun offering everyone much
Too many, glooms, pleasures, chances such,
Runs smoothly, hard, soft, busy or free,
Find few fairies, few fly to bare tree,
Many may have company of love,
Some lose way like a lost dove,
Yet, O, dear fellows all,
Be brave, never fall
Make not strife,
Live life.

poem by Jahan zaib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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