The joys of life,

Are not the possessions, 

You lust after,

I watch people kill themselves daily,

Just working for one more priceless object, 

Once having it in their hands, 

They lose the joy of it,

Placing it down forgetting it,

Moving to the next object of their desires,

Never filling the empty space within,

Lay all desires aside of this robotic malipative world,

Controled only by the lust of the flesh,

Moving from one object to the next,

Following others to the pits of nothingness,

Let go of the rules,

Let go of what you think you should own,

Of the possessions that bring, 

Only bring death into your soul…

Instead long for,

The breeze that enraptures your skin,

On a hot day,

The sun that warms your soul,

When you step out from under the shade tree,

The laugher of a friend,

When only looking at each other,

The one that sees all your scars,

But still wraps you up within them…

Feel the empty spaces,

Of your soul,

With all the natural,

Wonders of the world…

Once you find this,

The doors will open,

You will feel the world,

As it was supposed to be felt…