This Space Is Yours (Tell His Story)

 I'm way too ill at the moment to offer original content, beyond some thoughts on life and death and legacy.

I thought I'd be a Man of Air,

denizen of the sky,

but for that life I did not care,

and so I ceased to fly,

deferring to a martial creed

(I always liked to fight),

and later thought I had the need 

to cogitate and write

about where all my days had led,

but this muse, too, deserted me,

and here where all old dreams are dead

I look around but fail to see

what legacy is all about...

('Look, a SQUIRREL!', that happy shout.).

But I really am happy. God is good. No complaints.

However, someone does keep stealing my ice cream!

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