I remember back in the ‘80’s
How often I heard how hard life is
How tough you have to get, to be, to get ahead
How many were reading Sun Tzu, The Art of War
How many longed to be back in college
Protected, with their friends, the camaraderie, safe
Fighting your way to the top is hard, tough
Clawing your way into obscene wealth is hard, tough
Competing with your fellows, maybe screwing them over
You have to get tough, and it is hard if you choose these paths
I haven’t studied war, and haven’t become tough
I know disappointment, grief, crushed dreams
The consequences of too much love
Creativity is hard, but not conflict with my fellows
The satisfaction I know in word or tone shames wealth
I claw my way into creations I love to live with
I compete with my piano, with pen or keyboard
I do not know where the top is, what it is, but I will likely not be there
I know the struggle of satisfying art, soul satisfactions
The path I have chosen tends toward calm
The friends I continue to make make community, trust
I continue to learn, learn peace, wisdom, love
I find that is a struggle with mortal stakes
That life is hard, yet it doesn’t make me tough, and I wish no retreat
Into adolescent protection, sophomoric camaraderie
The realization of such a longing would be retreat indeed
From all of my struggle to grow in peace, wisdom, love
And I wish nothing more
David Fekete 