My Polar Star

Why do they say that pain is part of life?

It seems so artificial to me.

It stands out with those definite contours,

shiny and polished in all their density.

It sits there, impossible to miss,

it does not change with seasons

although they say time covers everything.

I just watch pain reclaiming the same space

day in and day out.

Its shape does not change

from spring to autumn, and into the winter,

it sits there watching decors migrating,

it sits on my chest

forever white, forever heavy,

my pain,

my polar star.

Photo via Unsplash.