Every since my face could see sun,
I've been trying to save the life of one.
Even when I was incognito,
I termed life to be sweet so.
Sweet enough to try and protect,
so I moved to dissect.

Dissecting the good from the bad,
the happy from the sad.
I love to be good,
live a million years if I could.
Nothing connected to bad,
but a life full of sad.

Every man has too figure,
it's love or the trigger.
They say only the strong survive,
but there's also room for
the week too thrive.
We all possess week and strong,
sooner or later the heart and soul
will figure where it's best to belong.
God just might show his good graces,
help us to better places.

I was born week of mind,
but sure strength I did find.
Also born a blue baby suffering,
death seemed my only offering.
After all the hard years,
life still gets me cheers.
Hip hip hooray,
I'm still around today.

What more can I say?

One