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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in Poetry

it is cold

it is cold

it is cold
that we might be thankful
for warmth.

it is dark
that we might rejoice
in the light.

there is hunger
that we might understand
the blessing of food.

and loneliness
that we should seek love.


and yet many will never
be warm
or brightened
or nourished
or held close
in the dark.

what are their comparisons
to be?

is not the world a strange,
unfathomable place
to spend one's days?
 

Beautifulwarrior - on Jul. 17 2008

Although this is a difficult and perplexing life, and I agree that there are those who aren't nourished, warmed, comforted...these thoughts of yours reminds me, of that special someone from my past who did comfort me when I was in need, fed a certain hunger in me, and, if only for a short time, filled those spaces of loneliness...it gives me hope when I feel cold, lonely, and hunger for more...and it motivates me to be that for others.  Thank you for the reminder that we need to reach out to be comforted, and to comfort.  Your writing moves me.


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