Friday, February 12, 2021

In A Past Life

In a past life, I had some other job. 
Not a computer programmer, that's for sure. 
I doubt I was the leader of a mob. 
I'd hate to think I was a stuck-up snob! 
But fortunately my past lives are obscure, 
Wonderfully lost somewhere in the mists of history, 
Without hypnosis, doomed to remain a mystery, 
And that's a good thing - it means I cannot regret - 
I cannot recall, and analyze, and fret 
Over what I did wrong through all those lives. 
Perhaps I was a sharpener of knives, 
That would have appealed to my conscientious side, 
Putting a glistening edge on tools gone dull, 
Singing while working, keeping my own heart full, 
Making up words for tunes the world supplied.

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