If life was a poem

If life was a poem, what would your words be filled with?
Would your verse be filled with sorrow and the memories of past?
Or the feelings of hope and happiness in what is called the future?
Would your pen strike the white parchment, with anger and hate,
Or sincere love and caring?

If life was a haiku, would your life be summed up accurately?
Could you sum everything up with the perfect adjective,
and then the perfect short phrase?
Would your pen strike the white parchment, with careful thought and planning,
or the procrastination and panic that contains you regularly?

What if all life was, was a poem?
Meaning you could only move forward, and there was no teacher watching over your
shoulder to correct your mistakes.
Written in black, unforgiving ink, that stains
tips of your fingers.

What would the nation as a whole do?
Would we ban together, and try to write down the perfect words, that described everyones collaborated lives
so perfectly it was almost disgusting?

Do you think then, perhaps, almost, possibly, we could
all get along?
Set aside indifferent differences, that we all are too close-minded to
let into their minds?
The religion musical taste, skin color, family heritage, insecurities, and the past?
Isn't there a saying that the past is the past, and the future is unknown?

If we wrote our lives in pen, what would the adjectives be?
Would they be musical, happy, enjoyable, leaving good things to our name, our nation
that has come together?
Or would they be hateful, putrid, cynical, saying how our nation was divided as a whole
instead of joined in moments of terror and strife?

If your life was to be enscribed in pen,
what would you choose to be written down?