This is not the first time, but 'tis the last, <br /> For my ends are always new beginnings; <br /> And only I can ever know my whys, <br /> Wherefores and withers, and even why nots? <br /> It is what she grasped in her hand once and <br /> Yet hasn't let go. It's not what she thinks: <br /> Not future or family nor reason <br /> But my right hand which she held, not the left. <br /> They're best left alone, but the right fingers <br /> Are finally right to grasp. Don't let go. <br /> The rights are correct. Others merely left <br /> Wrongly. Take my hand, the one that is right, <br /> For the wrong one shall leave. You would be left <br /> Unrighteously. Grasp the right one. Hold hard.<br /><br />Ashton John Fischer Jr.<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fourteen-lines-of-life/
