by Myrna Perez
I do not grin. I smile.
I fling my heart and my hands
wide open to this world.
There is no illusionment here,
My hope is not borne out of
ignorance. I see hate, I see pain.
I know sorrow and worry today
As my brother lies in a hospital.
No, do not pity me for my illusions.
For if I have any, it is not this:
I know there is love, I know there is beauty.
I know the world was not meant to be like this.
Do you think my confidence, my love, my intellect
are borne out of an accident, a trick of genes?
That my content and purpose are simply another side
to a coin. No. This is not so.
And if for some reason, I look into the shadow and you into the flame.
So be it, you have not gained from this. Do you think your anguish;
your bitterness is novelty?. It is not. Shake off this burdern,
And we will live with gladder hearts and joy.
And so, if all is a machine, my life, simply another cog in a wheel. Answer me these two questions. Why is it here, can you explain its existence (i.e. why is is there something rather than nothing). And this: why live in such a world at all?