Just Write

Easy. Easy for them to say, I say. Easy for them to say the words that make the sense, but hard for us to do the actions that make the heart grow wider. Easy to die, hard to live. Easy to forget the pain, they say. Easy to grow resentful, hard to grow strong, weary makes the heart grow weak in words of disregard. Disregard the haters, they say. But, we argue back, our minds are foolish, weak in the ways of the wise, strong in the length of our languishes. Oh, we say, but why, but why, but why. Easy to die, they say, hard to live. Oh well, I say, no more, no more easiness. Can we not just smile? But oh, they say, my heart does not want to smile. OH, we say, well if you do not WANT it. Can’t be done, can’t be done, they say, if the want is not there, what will can provide for the action? Why, we ask, why must they resent that which makes them suffer? Is not the way to the wise through the strength of the struggle, the heroics of the heart only born from the desolate walk of despair through the trenches we call the days of our lives? No, they say, no we do not want the hardness. Then why does one complain when they cannot even hope? 

I say, no more easy. They say, please, please, please let it be easy. Ah! As if the easy would provide the days full of unbending love, as if easy can create the bonds that hold humanity’s goodness together. So, no. 

It doesn’t do to be easy.