If the Dead could Speak.

Today, I learned of the death,
Of a friend of mine.
A friend from my past,
Whom I hadn’t heard from in a while.
And, today, my heart is quite sad,
From the news of his sudden passing.
Yet, strangely, I find myself pondering a question.
What if the dead could speak?
What would they share,
To those of us living below?
Strange I know.
Strange I must be.
Yet, if the dead could speak,
What would their voice, speak to me?

If the dead could speak,
What would they say?
And, would it really matter?
If it were only to fall upon a deaf and dying ear?
Me.
Just one, amongst the many living.
Would I continue on, in this life that I know?
A life often filled with worry, with sorrow, with woe.
Or, would I hearken?
And, awaken to their cry.
That life is so much more,
Than the pettiness I settle for.

The love we lost,
No, let waste away.
Simply because we let something called pride,
Get in the way.
Opportunities missed,
Because we couldn’t live for today.
The things in life,
We set such great importance upon.
We spend hours on the job.
We sacrifice what matters most,
Our family, our friends.
For what?  To make a name?
More importantly,
What we sacrificed the most,
Is our heart.
The sacrifice of so-called happiness,
On an altar of me.

If only the dead could speak,
Maybe they would shout loud and clear,
All of those things were never important at all.
The fame, the glory, the applause of others.
If only the dead could speak,
And, give us a glimpse of what life truly is about.

That perhaps the life we are living,
Has been all in vain.
That true meaning in life is so often overridden,
From the many burdens we carry,
And, unnecessary wanting we crave.
Yet, what if we could love more willingly?
Without pride or prejudice creeping in.
Without the shallow defense,
Of belief’s, expectations, or fears,
Of the one I claim to be.
Nothing left but to unselfishly love,
As life was created to be.
What if we were to live the truth of ourselves,
Without the worry of fitting in.
What if we could truly laugh,
And, give the world a smile?
For life is simply too short.
To allow the real beauty of life,
To swiftly pass by,
Words of the dead, if the dead could
Only speak.  HB

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About hrschbw

Hello, I'm Herschel. And, I'll be the first to say, that I am not a writer. Although, there was a day, long ago, that I considered writing as a career. Yet, life took me in a totally different direction. Today, I find myself just putting my thoughts down, simply with pen and paper. I'm a little old-fashioned maybe, in that sort of way. I simply find myself writing about whats real, and relevant to me, based off what life has given me. If what I write touches you, then my heart is truly at ease. For what it tells me, lets me know, that we are truly in this thing called "Life" together. And so, I thank each of you for taking the time to stop by, for liking my writings, and giving me the honor, that you would somehow follow me. And, so, I'm not a writer, a poet, or even perhaps a great blogger. All I can simply say, is that I write from a heart that's real, a place that somewhere along the way, I forgot existed.
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