Not Broken by John Roxbury
As long as I have life to use,
I'll not decry my every bruise,
I'll not keep track of every crack,
Or rave about my every scratch,
I'll not pretend each day is winter,
Bemoaning over every splinter.
For all the lives that have been spent,
Acquired a fair amount of dents,
And not a life I've seen thus far,
Had fewer than a hundred scars,
And I have yet to meet a soul,
Who had a heart that was still whole.
I may be chipped, or scuffed, or battered,
Weathered, or scored, or torn, or tattered,
But 'til from sleep I can't be woken,
I'll not accept that I am broken.
If I’ve a lung that is still breathing,
And half a heart that is still beating,
I bid my lips these words be spoken,
"'Til I am dead I'll not be broken".
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