Monday, February 22, 2010
The mortal soul be-fooled..
Our own mortal soul, be-fooled..
by our own thoughts and aspirations, shrouded in gloom..
Perfection so unattainable with the battle
of whether the mind or the heart is to rule..
A quiet soul often presumed to be taciturn,-
an amiable one being loquacious..
No matter how good you may be or pretend to be so,
what unfurls is all-the good, bad, ugly and worse
With the gift of the gab comes the loud mouth,
with pride comes the ego,
With patience comes laziness,
None of the vices the virtue can forego..
Acceptance of this human life's playful pert,
is what we can do first,
If life were to be in constant mirth..
what would be a smile, a tear, a kiss and a hug's worth?