Something like a poem…
The time has passed,
you’re there, I’m here,
and now it’s clear,
that we’re not near.
Although not near, my spirit’s close,
and while I’m here, I think of yours.
I feel your anger, I feel your grief,
but all you should be, is in relief.
For I shall tell you one great truth,
that no one else has talked you through.
You need me not, none else you need,
Happy to feel and in life to succeed.
The world is false, a genuine fake*,
and yet you are crying by the lake.
But save your tears, and smile instead,
life’s too short — sooner or later, you’ll be …dead.
Awaken therefore and move on,
for life always does go on.
Be kind, compassionate, and strong,
And none may say your life was wrong.
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*genuine fake — a term inspired by Alan W. Watts whose talks I was very much into while writing the above poem.
