THE ONES WE LOVE

You know in life, we often hurt,
We are often made to feel discomfort,
Sometimes we are heart-broken,
And our trust in people becomes shaken,

But no hurt is as painful as that caused by someone you love,
No pain is as grieving as that inflicted by the ones we love,
Especially when we have taken such people to heart,
We loved them, cherished them, even adored them, and gave them our hearts,
It sure is painful!
It sure is hurtful!

This poem is a special dedication to someone out there who is hurting,
It's a special dedication to someone out there who is grieving,
It's a special dedication to someone out there who is right now, burning within,
For that one who's been betrayed by the one you loved,
The one you called your love, your true love you thought was sent you from above,

It's a special piece for that one who's been betrayed by a friend,
Deserted by a companion you thought would stick to the end,
The one you called buddy, homey, pal and even family,
In the midst of that pain, that hurt and bitterness within you,
In the midst of that pain you're going through,

Here's what I want you to know;
No matter what it is that was done to you or against you, let go,
For in life we are sometimes pierced by the thorn of friendship,
Wounded by the sword of love, burnt by the fires of a loving relationship,
But you can't continue to feel down and out,
It's time to get-up, let go of the past, and let the pain out,

You can't continue to hold grudges, hindering your own progress,
Endangering your health and peace of mind by living in constant stress,
Over a wrong that was done you,
Over an injustice meted out against you,

So please learn to let go, and move on,
Put that hurt behind you and press on,
For in life, we are sometimes hurt by the ones we love,
We are occasionally offended by those we call our own,
But the best we can do for ourselves when those we love,
Err against us, when they abandon us and leave us alone,
Is to forgive and forget no matter how hard it is,
For in doing this, we release ourselves from emotional, mental, and even spiritual set-backs.
Please learn to let go and move on. Peace.

OF WHAT USE?

Man born of a woman is full of troubles,
Yes, even everyday life is often filled with struggles,
The struggle to pay the rent, the car note, 
The phone bills, the electric bills, while keeping up,
Like a vessel on a sea, we feel afloat,
And in the midst of all these, some give-up,

But as I contemplated on the vanity of mortality;
The fact that man's subject to an ephemeral entity-
We are here today and tomorrow we pass away,
To make ends meet, we arise early each day,
Hustle, bustle, and struggle, work hard just for survival,
After much meditation on this, I ask a question,

Of what use?
Is it for a man to pass through life,
Without fulfilling his destiny, living an unfulfilled, wasted life,
This is no question with intention to stump you,
 Neither is one that is meant to upset you,
But a question made to change and "up-set you,"

So I ask again, of what use?
Is it for you to misuse, refuse and abuse,
God's purpose for your life, living in constant carnality,
Getting stuck in the rat race, living in superficiality,
Isn't there more to life than just chasing waterfalls?
Isn't there more to life than just chasing pitfalls?

Think about it, of what use?
Is it for you to live a care-free life,
Ignorant of meaning, living in constant bitterness and strife,
Over the things you couldn't achieve,
Over the things your perceived,
Were rightfully yours; please learn to let go,
And at the end of this piece, here's what you should know-

There's more to life than just having a wife and family,
How about destiny, integrity, fidelity, morality, humility and legacy,
There's more to life than sex, drugs, alcohol and riotous living,
That is not life, that's just wasting away,
Please wake up!
For some day, all of this we see today, this world we live in, would be given-up,
And then in the realm of eternity, some where beyond this life, where fame, name and fortune,
Become irrelevant, where even the rich, prestigious, wealthy and those opportune,
Will become nameless, somewhere beyond the vanities of life, if you live recklessly,
Your soul will lie in its place of final abode, restlessly,
As it battles with this question, OF WHAT USE?