POEM: The Pain



pain advances its speary phalanx
i watch–a dispassionate witness
like some Buddha once told me to
it’s sour march is not so daunting


and yet it makes for cruel, cruel masters
kicking at a puppy for peeing on the rug
when everyone knows a puppy is a lovable bundle of carpet-peeing madness
its service to help one see the beauty entwined in all happenings despised
elsewise, how might one learn the futility of despising?

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