From the dust I came and off to ashes I go, crying in between for people and things that I call mine.
Mine is an illusion and I know it all; yet â I crib and cry over the lost, I fight and whine for people who are gone!
What is "ME" and what is "MINE"? A day will soon come when I lie in unison with the soil that I came from.
Off I go to the master with what? A saga of pain and ego or a life of love and forgiveness, does it really matter to him what I go with?
Nothing in the world lasts for long, no one lives forever, we are here only for a certain time, exchange your ego with the fruits of joy and forgiveness, sell your pride to buy humility.
If this is all then, I give up "NOW" on everything that "HAS: happened in the PAST and something that "MAY" happen in the FUTURE.
Busy I am buying the tastiest fruits NOW before I know its too late tomorrow.