This probably isn't really poetry. It's more a speech than anything. Anyway, hope you enjoy it.
How do we define the word, 'life'? Is it just the period between birth and death? Or is life what we make of life? Is life the single word we use to describe the living and the things around us? These questions I cannot answer. These questions, no-one can answer, and no-one, can ever answer. The meaning of life is a concept that hides behind thick barriers. But it does not do this through fear, but because of life's love for the living.
It is not what life makes of you, it is what you make of life.
