The world entangled

The world entangled.
I used to want to disentangle it,
to loosen each knot.
Oh! I was patient, very patient.
At times I succeeded and was rewarded with a smile.
Now that white hairs mingle with black ones,
now that lines draw themselves under my eyes,
I have stepped aside.
I see the entanglement,
I even know where it comes from.
Pride, arrogance, envy, and more,
all those attachments that people persist in pursuing —
the constant call of the ego.
I have learned to let it all be.
I still shed tears because the world is hurting,
but I no longer try to loosen the knots.
Now I just come here and write a few words.
If you do not understand the compassion in my poetry,
it is fine by me.

Kenza.