I saw a few people carrying breathers, one lady was sitting in a wheelchair. A little old lady told me she could barely walk two feet and that she relied on her breather. She said she smoked all her life, reminded me to never mess with cigarettes. She didn't have to warn me, I don't mess with my breathers like that.
During my next second
and every other second
I'm going to enjoy
the precious oxygen
that the buried coal miners
didn't have
I'm going to enjoy
not being out of breath
Every deep breath
I will savour
I will count each one
forever
Even down to
my last
I'm going to try
and make it a blast
Nothing else counts
when we can't breath
On this crazy earth
I'm well planted
Never again will I take
anything precious for granted
Right on the mark with this poem, Grady! Nothing better than good, clean air to breathe...when we can find it. "Never again will I take
anything precious for granted"...me, too! Me, too!
Blesssings and Love - Micke
Share
Print
Save
Follow
anything precious for granted"...me, too! Me, too!
Blesssings and Love - Micke