by Harry Kel

Whether it's the pills,
Or time alone has healed,
Ready or not
I must enter the field
To decide our fate-
My wife's and children's too-
No more time to wait
With needs many and hopes few. 
Choices appear and disappear
The sullen night, the morning fear,
The difficult days exhaust
To where the evening is lost;
And family and friends pay the cost
Of knowing someone
Who suffers, more often then not,
From melancholia or mania
That is my lot.
But, life has had its memorable moments,
Some that I savour.
And, my wife and children,
And a small group of friends,
Have made life's labour
Worth its end.

Choices by Harry Kel

© Copyright 1987. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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