Ebb and flood

Who from among you will stand and say you've lived?
who, from among you does not simply drift
around the swell, and ebb and flood of life,
who has drained the good of life;
who has lived the city,
more than thinking it shitty,
seen through the mist and fog,
seen the princess who kissed the frog
and saw her fat, ugly life turn
into a dazzling array of life,
a rubied heart, a silver soul,
a mind, once confused, returning whole.

Who has seen life for what it is and lived?
and who, from among you does not simply drift
through it,
not caring who it is,
but believing what it sees -
the fog and mist.
Whose missed the old man who kissed
his fair Juliet on the lips,
yet who let her fair hand slip,
and now, sits
by the fireside looking into
black and white memories,
wishing,
now facing death,
he could go back
and feel her breath once more
against his back,
as they embraced for the last time,
never to look back,
each knowing they would.

Who from among you will say that you have lived
without regrets,
who wagered on life,
and returned with all bets,
see visions and dreams that while not real yet
were not resented for their distance,
were not doubted for their chance,
were achieved independently, with accepted assistance,
and then shared with all others who would join in the dance.

Who from among you will stand and say you have lived?
and who from among you does not simply drift
around the ebb and flood of life
who has drained the good in life
from the soul within,
that's large as the mightiest star or sun
shining from the head of a pin.