so-called friends

Friends? I have some but they’re none
I call them people, just like all the others
Because I’m a stranger wherever I go
They don’t know me and they can’t know me
Only God knows what’s in my heart, no other.
How do I explain that all that I have is not me?
That this face, this smile, isn’t me?
The clothes, the money, the jewelry… none are me
They don’t express me, but my poems do
Barely do they, but my words are closer to me
Would that I lived with nothing but nature surrounding me
No civilization, no lies, no dealing with people’s obsessions
Just me, my Lord and the Beauty he created for me, for all of us.
Money’s a blessing, but could be a fatal curse
Live for yourself and not for the money, for it’s a perishing
Own it and don’t let it own you
Don’t work for it, but let it work for you
Don’t be a machine that counts every penny in and out
But be a man, a Human life. Live as if you’ll die tomorrow
Because God knows you could
And what will you say to the angels? That money took all your time?
Life’s too short: live it as it is short and don’t obsess
For even if you build a whole planet, you’re going to lose it all, all at once