In the overflowing warehouse of life
Sometimes what matters most
Is where you point
The torch light of consciousness
I live as close to hell as can be found
In the city by the lake
But I shine my light on the good
The wise words of the gurus
The kind words of the nurses
Delight at different authors works
The peace and quiet
The birds I haven’t seen in years
And the careful rabbits
That squeeze under the fence
Towards their quarry
I could just as easily
Be looking at the nightmarish lives
Of the other inmates
The violence at times so random
The fences that lock us in
And the sterile habitat
That eats away at the soul
But call it a habit
Or a choice
I look at the good
And it gets me through
My soul intact another day
Beautiful. Keep it up.
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