It is my time to go and face my Great Maker.
My days are at an end so comes the undertaker.
I'm not sure what is next. I'm just a little worried.
I have done the best I could but I was too often hurried.
An antiquer's life is hard, lift and load, fix and clean
Then face the customer's snarl as they deride, insult, demean.
But my struggle is now over, my back will hurt no more
A new world is ahead of me as I face my Savior's door.
What would be the verdict as I view the streets of gold
Had I lived a life that was worthy to be included in the fold?
I looked around for answers and then I began to see
Some strangers were approaching with their arms outstretched to me.
The first was a dear old lady who met me with embrace
"Thank you, Dear, for caring about that broken vase"
It came from my dear father upon my wedding day
You saved it from the trash truck to be cherished along the way.
And then there was another who grabbed and shook my hand.