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To be, or even not to be, That is not the question; But what to do with every day, With all in my possession. It isn’t where I land that counts, But how I make each stride; It’s less what I accumulate Than what I’m like inside.
To be, or even not to be,
That is not the question;
But what to do with every day,
With all in my possession.
It isn’t where I land that counts,
But how I make each stride;
It’s less what I accumulate
Than what I’m like inside.
If one is going to sit on the fence they better make sure it is a fence with a flat top and not pointy tops because a pointy top will go up ones ass and cause pain and maybe some bleeding resulting in a trip to the hospital
Indeed. Ahem.
Amen!
Easier said than done. I’m working on it… 🙂
Melody, didn’t we used to follow each other a few years ago? Must’ve lost you along the way so I’m following you again.
I love this poem, btw! 🙂
Thanks Betty! Glad you found me! 🙂
But why does my inside love to accumulate so much outside! So many possessions. I spent the entire month of January de-cluttering but I still have too much. 😀
Ugh. When you-re finished there, come on over! I have been slowly trying to stop at least the inward flux, but still have a ways to go towards simplicity.
Actually I think it is easier for someone else to declutter for you; they can see the items without all the emotional baggage that go with them. Lets swap clutter!
Maybe we could swap? I have a hankering for your neck of the woods…
Hmmm….. let me know when the snow is over and I will think about it. 😀 😀
Ha! Smart lady…
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
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