Dictionary

Life is a dictionary of things.
Most come and go.
Some make us home
others are at a distance,
But none of them are lost.
Like tears, they remain,
always a part of us.
With a few bold decisions
they say
“You can take anything you want.”
But, what about the things that
don’t belong to us?
Is it ethical to run and cry
for things?
Or do we just choose
“Suffering” and look for “sacrifice”?
What exactly is life? A collection of things? Or a thing?