We're born with 'possessing' as our aim
Because we were given a bodily frame
Which we've come to cherish and adore
As if that's who we are, and nothing more
So, our life becomes an enduring stride
Of chasing possessions, people, and pride
We accumulate anything to make us feel
That the 'physical self' illusion is real
And most of us are devoted to this trend
Until the day comes that it all has to end
The day that we have to give up the stride
Thus, all the possessions, people, and pride
And then we have to surrender the body too
It's an old, recurring story. Nothing new.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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