That few understand life,
Or that of those, understanding won't help,
Them avoid angst or strife?
It's little comfort to know what you love,
When you're struck down daily,
By fists and ethics and economics,
When your faith that things will work out fail thee.
Perhaps it's better, as others have thought,
That ignorance is bliss,
A notion, sadly, only understood,
Once you've accepted this.
Though, I won't go,
Back, to try this again,
Life finishes fast, despite chosen paths,
And true rewards only come at the end.
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