GloPoWriMo 24/30

Our only friend,
Best enemy,
Whose comfort we seek refuge in:
When we’re lonely, upset, sad, disappointed,
And whose presence we acknowledge,
Under more positive circumstances.

What we’re reminded of constantly,
Consistently, over the ages,
Is that things are fleeting.
Attributing the thought to parents,
Aristotelian theory,
Without any praxis.

I wonder how this would change,
If life was never ending,
Forget immortality,
Think afterlife.

Our only friend,
Never an enemy,
No comfort to seek refuge in,
No one’s presence to acknowledge.


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