I was recently told that I am very Zen.
And hell, of course, I am not.
I lament, not being able to smoke when I want to.
I lament, the slow steady passing away of mom.
I lament, the slow steady fading of love.
I lament, the hours that I did not spend in silence.
I lament, the nights that I did not spend writing.
I lament, the lack of a decent conversation in months.
I lament, not being able to sing.
I lament, that long before the world ends, I will be gone.
I lament, that I only lament but do nothing else.
I lament, that there is memory, but there is no you.
Today, even hell is freezing over.
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