Seven Years Spent Sadly Unfulfilled

I
With seven years spent sadly unfulfilled
The game’s afoot: It’s time to breathe a life
Matured with airs most clear and undistilled.
I shall not let impediments cause strife
No matter if the calendar is rife
With darkened days or if it is obscured;
There shall be none to wound then twist the knife
Inside of me, for now I am self-cured,
And understand all my troubles can be endured.

II
A smiling face should be bestowed on all,
And confidence considered a virtue
To be rationed for when worries befall
The boiled brow given out for review.
No movement should be taken, old or new,
Wherein a lack of passion dulls the earth;
And those you love, entrust that they love you
In every way that you love them with worth.
Above all else, in each thing find a cause for mirth.

III
This life in quest of further life remains,
As long as life in any form persists,
The noblest one all humans entertain,
The grandest reason why we should exist.
If from this vaunted path I must desist
I know that I, like sunrise, will return,
For upon you I have tried to insist
My way of living is the best to learn,
And your example shall beget mine own in turn.

June 23-24