When life became a game of numbers,
I wanted no part of it.
I chose to sit by the sidelines,
And threw a hissy fit.
I sat on the benches,
with my unlimited supply of Hersheys,
As the Iron men, the triathletes
and the marathoners
passed me by.
After the sugar rush,
came the subsequent crash
and I woke up from my stupor.
I scanned my sanctuary,
And all around me was trash.
And then it hit me
One autumn morning to be exact
Life was indeed about numbers
There was no escaping the fact.
Of all the numbers leading to infinity
The most important are,
The number of people you inspired
And the number of hands you held.
Dedicated to Hugh of Hugh’s News and Views whose article Living by Numbers inspired this poem though he talks about how numbers today have become an obsession and the futility of a life measured solely by numbers I just thought I’d extend this thought and give it a slight twist…Thank you Hugh!