Our lives are blank slate
With freewill as the ink
It's no one's choice but yours
To make of it that which is ideal
Our parent's duty was all but the birth
A little support until we know good and evil
Then we write on the slate that we choose
Only our voices count, that of people don't
Image generated using Gemini AI
The ink is erasable, a room for many mistakes
But only but for a short time, so use wisely
While we wander about our lives
Remember a slate awaits your deeds
Free will a gift so rare
Yet so dangerous that we never know when it's taken from us
What really count is what you make of your blank slate
Not how long the slate stayed.