The Dummy

In that forgotten part of town
Where wasted hopes and dreams abound,
A wrinkled man with life near end,
In hopes to have at least one friend,
Fashioned bits of wood and things
And made a dummy run by strings.

He sat alone for hours on end,
Conversing with his only friend
And found delight within the fact
That he controlled it's every act.
He told it how he never had
A chance, since all his luck was bad
Although he'd tried so to succeed -
The dummy nodded and agreed.

And how his journeys in romance
Had never given him a chance,
And wasn't it a crying shame
That he was always held to blame
When everyone knew, oh so well,
That life is but a living Hell,
Controlled by lust and power and greed?
The dummy nodded and agreed.

With patience that would rival saints,
That dummy sat through all complaints
And, with each little expert tug,
He'd droop his head or bow or shrug
And give some comfort to the man
Who held his lifelines in his hand
And helped to fill a lonely need
When he just nodded and agreed.

Senility increased with time
As did the old man's phantomime,
And feverish fingers pulled with glee
The dummy's dance of misery.
They never left each other's side
Until the day both stopped and died.
We found them lying, hand in hand,
The dummy - and his wooden friend.

Life without Purpose

Life without purpose is barren indeed -
There can't be a harvest unless you plant a seed,
There can't be attainment unless there's a goal,
And man's but a robot unless there's a soul...

If we send no ships out, no ships will come in,
And unless there's a contest, nobody can win...
For games can't be won unless they are played
And prayers can't be answered unless they are prayed...

So whatever is wrong with your life today,
You'll find a solution if you kneel down and pray
Not just for pleasure, enjoyment and health,
Not just for honors and prestige and wealth...

But pray for a purpose to make life worth living,
And pray for the joy on unselfish giving,
For great is your gladness and rich your reward
When you make your life's purpose the choice of the Lord.

- Helen Steiner Rice