When I’m not in denial,
I am dirty, the world is ugly,
And every little thing in it.
Life is selfish and love is crude –
I never want a thing to do with it.
Is it because of people I feel like this,
Because of a horrid humanness?
It’s because of a spitting on sacredness
And scoffing at things that are good.
It makes me want nothing, either good, or bad.
It makes me not want this body, or anything in it.
Anything I will have, or have had, or said –
I can only pray for peace with a smidge of it.
There, I would like to have peace with a bit of it –
I usually believe I do.
I’m elated the birds are singing again.
My happiest moments are the occasions
Where I can study the things around me in detail, undisrupted
(A highlight of the month was gazing at the ceiling of a bus,
which is more beautiful than some people).
I really don’t want to be bitter
Toward me or you or the world.
When I’m not thinking about it,
I want to make the most of it – what I have, and what I am.
One reply on “”
“(A highlight of the month was gazing at the ceiling of a bus,
which is more beautiful than some people).”
Sounds like you thought alot on that bus ride.
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