Homely advice for us all . . .

A trifle bathetic, but hey, he means well (I think) . . .

. . . may we never fail to weep before [the] tragedies of our young. May we never become inured to them, for anyone incapable of tears cannot be a mother. [Emphasis added throughout]

Wow! A poet!

We want to weep so that society itself can be more of a mother, so that in place of killing it can learn to give birth, to become a promise of life.

Figure that one out, you get a cigar.

We weep [Hoo-boy, I sure do] when we think of all those young people who have already lost their lives due to poverty and violence, and we ask society to learn to be a caring mother.

Please, society, be a mother!

None of this pain goes away; it stays with us, because the harsh reality can no longer be concealed.

Is that it? Was wondering.

The worst thing we can do is adopt that worldly spirit whose solution is simply to anaesthetize young people with other messages, with other distractions, with trivial pursuits.

Trivial pursuits, yes. Get rid of them, let pain take over.

Thanks, Mr. Poet. You’re not Percy Shelley, but stay with it.

(Another way to win a cigar is to guess this man’s day job without clicking the link.)

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