The man was silent in front of adversity,

calm in the face of trial,

cool in front of trouble,

Quiet while he died in pain.

He listened to all troubles,

gave a shoulder for free,

listened and when asked,

Gave advice for free.

He had troubles of his own,

had no one to listen,

no shoulder to lean on.

He had to rely on his Own.

He listened with complete attention

gave all had for free,

took it all, with calm assurance,

While his worries climbed to a peak.

His is worries overcame him at long last,

he took his life,

what a loss to the world,

What a grave injustice to himself.

He travelled the upper road,

got to the gate,

and horror struck him,

He was turned away.

He trudged downward slowly,

fear and sorrow striking at his heart,

for he had been such,

 A good sort.

He arrived at his is destination,

tears streaming down his face,

for he did not understand,

Why, he had been sent to this part.

He had been so good,

listening and hearing.

helping and peering,

In to the lives, of other mortals in distress.

He arrived at the gates,

hot, red and bloody,

the tears turned to steam,

As his heart was swallowed, by the red hot heat

He is lost, why God above, he tried,

to help,

to listen,

to give,

yet you turned him away.

His soul when resurrected,

will turn,

the next time,

to selfish sports and hobbies,

Then perhaps his turn for paradise will appear

    by Mike Morgan  from his Published Poems.      Some Thoughts.

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