Sunday, December 2, 2012

That Little Sorry State

Once there was a little sorry state
of everything.
Nothing great,
nothing worth remembering.
It just was
and it still is
as sorry as it will ever be.
It began with sort of a
mindlessness
that was thrown in
with the certainty of a
restlessness.
Just do,
it said,
just act,
it spat.
No need for empathy,
no need for sympathy.
Let the mind give in
to things unknown.
Let the heart be led
by the hands of norm.
Let the body reside
in skin and bones.
Let us all tarry
around things unborn.
Don't try too hard,
it will never work.
Don't see the light
from your eyes of fear.
Don't ask too much
from the misled folk.
Don't be sorry
when things begin to clear.
Keep yourself from the sorry and sorrows
of today, yesterday and tomorrow.
That little state need not dictate
the life you choose to love and make.
But as you wander in the streets
beyond doubts of disrepair.
You must wonder in your feats
to sometimes ask, "'What else is there?"
Oh, nothing much,
nothing that life can't touch.
Just that sorry little state
that we so love to call it our sacred fate.

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