This is a poem my mother shared with me the other night...I searched for the author to no avail but I like it so much I wanted to share it with you...
A man of words and not of deeds
is like a garden full of weeds
and when the weeds begin to grow
it's like a garden full of snow
and when the snow begins to fall
it's like a bird upon the wall
and when the bird away does fly
it's like an eagle in the sky
and when the sky begins to roar
it's like a lion at the door
and when the door begins to crack
it's like a stick across your back
and when your back begins to smart
it's like a penknife in your heart
and when your heart begins to bleed
you're dead and dead and dead indeed.
Anonymous
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