I want to write life and living

in different measurements. 

An inch of blood, a spool of grief,

a whit of joy or unhappiness,

a quarter of the sand of the past,

the salinity of impermanence. 

 

That night I tossed and turned

awash in seas of despair…

From far, far (too far, I thought)

a well-known voice returned to repair 

my wounded days, endless nights

and said , “Life never promised “fair”, 

it is only those who have too much 

who think they have nothing

it’s only those who work on who they are

who can hold on to something.

 Even if the world breaks down

because YOU think it’s “unfair”

only the tough survive,

only because they care.

You cannot play with knives, 

and not expect a scar;

You cannot live with dogs

and not live with fur;

You cannot learn to cook

end expect never to be burned… 

and you can never, never love someone 

and expect it returned!”