My Day of Trial

By Rodney Schmidt
January 17, 1968

Some days there is this gleam,
within my eye,
a sparkle all its own,
camouflaged by a smile.

But then there comes a time,
when all just seems to fail.
What happened to that gleam?
It almost formed a tear.

What’s right, is right, what’s wrong is wrong,
the best can you detect?
And what I do, I pray be right,
God help me, here I stand.

The days may come, the days may go
What’s that but history?
It’s not what’s done, but the thought behind,
that really brings up your score.

But what about the world out there?
Offended it may be.
But then again I must recall,
“What about it?”

Do we live for the world,
for ourself, or God?
I ask you,
why go yea here?

That, that I do,
I try my best!
I always think it’s right.
it would appear I am wrong.

Sure I know at times I slip,
and often indeed I do.
But time might tell, and God will know.
and that is good enough for me.