Sunday, April 12, 2009


Shaped by the finite
Pilgrims to the finish line
Some faster than most
As others take sweet time.
Aches and pains function,
Reminders of impermanence
That today’s blissful enjoyment
Will be punctuated some time.
For as many aches and pains
There exist as many cures
As they say,
We all kill ourselves a little
When we grapple with the devil
I say,
What doesn’t kill.

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