Wisdom: Lachrymose at the Kiosk of Life

How can you help but be lachrymose at the kiosk of life?
You peer into the lacunae of the souls of those who buy
Without even knowing why and you try to explain in vain,
But every person bears some irremovable stain of heart
That you yourself cannot even begin to clean
Because to that one the spot remains unseen!
And who’s to blame for such shame when what you offer
You offer for free to any person who might see the value
Of your gift to lift them out of folly and absolute despair?
Yes, your gift would repair their sickly minds and souls;
Instead, you’re left weeping, keeping your gift in hand –
Lachrymose at the kiosk of life . . . you cry as you try . . .

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