poem

 OthernessSo much time spent as a me versus everyone elseBelieving there ' s mine and the rest is yoursInside a mind walled off from everything out there Me and youYou and meUs or nothing elseThey say there are seven forms of loveBut we both know that ’s nonsenseThere ' s just the one kindThe only one that mattersThe one that bridges the gap Between an individual and anyone else.I ’m afraid it’s all an illusion though,This separation between selfAnd the rest of the world Which would mean love Is also an illusionOr at least an unnecessary link,That all this timeThere was merely no othernessIn which case I thinkI ’d prefer to remain as me, Sequestered over hereWaiting for love to reappear9/7/22

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - September 7, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs