Background: Native Tennessean Janice Bumbalough Marler has lived in a variety of locations during which time she raised four children, three daughters and a son. At forty-four, she graduated from the police academy in North Carolina. As a police officer she won numerous awards. Since retiring from law enforcement, she has devoted her time to writing. Life comes at you fast, and too soon it is over. Therefore, I write." You may e-mail Janice at


Live every day as if it were your last;
Your todays turn into tomorrows,
Becoming a matter of the past.

Life writes with an unseeable hand,
Leaving an indelible impression
On those we pass.

Our desires, hopes, and dreams,
Formulated in youth,
Vanish, like a vapor, into the night.
We, who were once pliable,
Like clay in the hands of its master,
Took flight.

Before the strong winds of life,
Brought us to our knees,
Reshaping, molding, breaking
Like the tender branches on
On delicate trees.

We too soon are altered,
Shaped and bent by time,
Crippled by discouragement;
Each day I lay on my bed of ‘what ifs’;
My pillow: the pillow of regrets

I am broken.

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