Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Throbbing Thoughts

There're so many worse off,
Than what you're going through,
That can be a comfort when times are tough,
Thinking of what you'll do,

Then there is what good old Pascal had wrote,
The thing about the mite,
Through thinking how big you're compared to it,
That, after gazing on vast Nature's light

Things really get put into proportion,
Though there's one thing that's missed,
Theoretically, if you were alone,
They just wouldn't exist,

Thus, we're back 'gain,
Thumbing our nose at death,
Thwarting its attempts at frightening us,
Thanking our mind for its lack of distress.

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