A Poem By My Friend
Conor14



When I Die,
Give What's Left Of Me Away,
To Children,
And Old Men That Wait To Die,
And If You Must Cry,
Cry For Your Brother Walking The Streets Beside You.
And When You Need Me,
Put Your Arms Around Anyone,
And Give Them What You Need To Give Me.
I Want To Leave You Something.
Something Better Than Words Or Sounds.
Look For Me In The People I've Known Or Loved,
And If You Cannot Give Me Away,
At Least Let Me Live In Your Eyes And Not In Your Mind.
You Can Love Me Most,
By Letting Hands Touch Hands,
By Letting Bodies Touch Bodies,
And By Letting Go Of Children That Need To Be Free.
Love Doesn't Die - People Do.
So When All That's Left Of Me Is Love,
Give Me Away.

Love To All My Friends..
Conor


HIGH FLIGHT
by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air,
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.