The Good Life

I’m born again each morning

To the same deluded state.

I’m blind with an old prescription,

Chained to what I want.

Everybody tells me what I should do.

Everybody shows me what I should have.

I bury my soul in debt;

Charm my mind with trinkets.

I let fools preach to me of the

Foam on the waves when

What I need is the depth of the sea.

I pray for the good life and

When my prayer is answered

It is not what I expect.

I keep grasping for desires and

Life keeps taking things away

To teach the great lesson.

The harder I cling

The harder life works to

Pry away my fingers.

When I open my hand ,

Finally, I relax. 

Tom Barrett

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© 2009 Tom Barrett