In daily dying to ourselves <br />As we pain <br />Each day, each minute, <br />We get used to dying <br />And every death that comes <br />Close to our skins <br />Whichever is it <br />As there are many of them <br />At the end <br />Not a death that comes <br />Really matters. <br />And so the stress is gone <br />In fact, we start to welcome <br />It like a guest, <br />The invited one, we even <br />Ask it to stay <br />And be home with us. <br /> <br />Little deaths here and there <br />Each is real, nothing frightens anymore. <br />And death becomes <br />So boring so common so tiny to tinker<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-daily-dying-to-ourselves/
