When I shed mortal frame and I am gone,
Let this they say for sake of whom I lived:
“He always looked as if too woebegone;
Almost on purpose joy he always missed.
He never talked and kept a low profile
Except on occasions driven by whim;
But silently he did work all the while
He helped all those who ever came to him.
A jolly fellow he was, though morose.
Often he was the proverbial meek.
Petals and thorns he carried like a rose.
Of selflessness he had a pretty streak.
We wish so, his friends and his family,
In netherworld he may live happily.”
• Awarded first place in the “Virtues of Poetry” contest, "Invalid Item" hosted by blainecindy, on the theme—“Selflessness”.
* Show cased in Spiritual Newsletter, 3 October 2012.
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