if your life must be preserved

simply as a remnant of past glory

functioning as a recycler of food

and memory

 

if you possess no means of escape

from those who may love or hate you

or worst of all be indifferent,

or stare as if you were a shadow

without apparent form,

 

if you can be this and still keep hope

for love of a greater dream

past the stumbling block of life

and look to the sky

 

if you can do this and smile

without needing to know why

and despise the bestiality of it all

 

you will not be a vegetable my son