Love Poem 7

When does the well run dry?

When does the deck flip?

When do we see the end of everything we have come to

know?

Is there a point where we find out that everything is an

illusion?

Or, is that thought,

in and of itself,

an illusion?

To think we can ever

know

what is going on around us, or

to think that we have an inside track on the

goings-on

of things that

REALLY MATTER

is a real laugh.

The truth is nothing really matters at all.

If you listen to me, I will save you

heartbreak,

heartache,

and heart ache.

Nothing matters.

Nothing has ever mattered.

Nothing will ever matter.

What a cynical point of view to have, I know.

I agree,

but

I don’t really know if there is any other way of

seeing

that actually makes sense for me to take.

Everything in this world is defined by absence of pain,

not absence of love.

Absence of pain.

Oh, this is good because it doesn’t hurt.

Absence of pain, and absence of hurt.

Absence of everything that makes life,

in theory,

be something we should want to carry on and carry with us and

make sure we have with us so when

the end comes

we can look back and say,

wow, I lived a whole life.

Guess what?

When we look back and see that our lives have been

lived in vain

I will laugh.

I will laugh at everything that we have been told and I will

laugh knowing

that living has been the greatest joke ever played and

we are all the biggest fools ever born.

We are the suckers who have been born every second.

And everyone after us will be even bigger fools for

thinking they have it all figured out and

that everything we did set them up to figure it all out.

There is no figuring it out.

There is struggling and there is surviving

and if

we are lucky

there is making things sacred and holding on

to what we can

before we forget why we held onto it in

the first place.