Wisdom

Who is wise among you?

Who has made himself righteous?

Are not all man’s ways devious?

Are not all his inhibitions wicked?

He toils under the sun for vanity.

He plots and plans for feeble things.

Sleepless nights become his co-pilot.

All his efforts crumble under the foot of time.

Solomon asked for wisdom and still he was found

empty

and

alone.

What good is it then, to be wise?

What does it profit a man to gain wisdom?

All share the anguish and pains of life.

The selfishness to be comfortable hinged on the cliff of vanity,

For man’s eyes are never full nor are his pockets happy.

A poor man’s life ends just as the rich man’s.

The model wishes to be seen.

The athlete wishes to be accomplished.

The scholar wishes to be recognized.

The musician wishes to be heard.

And they will all be buried and forgotten.

Strong drink and matter alike,

Blind the mind to the harshness of life.

We busy ourselves with activities,

Some we claim nobler than others,

And we choose our friends on the vanities we agree upon.

We express ourselves through our vanities

And encourage others to do the same.

What good is it then, to be wise?

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