“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Saturday, May 9, 2015
Doing the math
A good belly laugh adds a minute.
A warm embrace, easily a whole day.
TV wastes years, so do tears.
Alcohol, cigarettes, digesting
things we can't pronounce, revenge and regret,
their price-I forget.
A day to do nothing but play, just wishes and kisses.
A few minutes with a poem, Hi-ho-Hum.
Working at Someones Expectations Inc.
(offers no benefits or retirement).
The sun.
The ocean.
Negative people.
Settling or stagnancy.
Let's see...
Plus or minus, more or less,
Failure, I mean Opportunity
I'm about even with karmic destiny.
This is totally life.
Image By Bhakti Ziek (provided by the author) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.
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