The Director

April 26, 2010
By Anonymous

In the north, there lives a man

Built his way up with the sweat of his hands

Made a home, a place to come

When all the days work was done

Lived for the future and remembered the past

All those memories he had cast

Into the deep blue sea

To this day, that is where they will be

Those days of mistakes and woes

Into the sea is where they go

A new life is what he made

All those days did quickly fade

Now his days are filled

With the lives that have been stilled

Finished, over, done, and gone away

Dead with out today

Placed into his hands and care

With sad filled stares

To be placed six feet under

To enter heavens wonder

Day by day, he works and labors

For his family, friends, and neighbors

Not as only a man of papers and flowers

But a man of blessing, prayers, and showers

Of love from on high

From the big guy in the sky

He watches his creation

The man with eyes of gold

Who watches as his life unfolds

So quickly before his eyes

As his youth passes by

Quickly, he sees his family grow

Sadly, he knows

That one day he will be laid inside the golden case

A there will no longer be a trace

Of his earthly soul and mind

Only in heaven you will find

His broken heart, renewed, fixed, and whole

A new man, a new soul

For now his sits at the table

Phone rings, someone died, wounded, fatal

He gazes at the faces all around

The smiles, the laughter, the crying, and the sounds

The usual evening meal

Oh my, it has revealed

To his face

A smile

The author's comments:
The Director is the American working man, who finds himself thinking on his past and the days before he had to worry about taking care of his family. He realizes how precious tey really are to him.

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