Days of Fury

Yesterday a friend of mine was praising a local psychologist.

She is excellent, the best in her profession, he said.

Do you believe that a mother died and her husband,

aware of the approaching doom, had entrusted

such psychologist to prepare their dear daughter

for the terrible episode in question.

He did so because he knew the extreme

and unique sensitivity of the girl

he and his wife loved so much.

Then, it was noted that, at the funeral

that one day took place, the girl did so well,

receiving the guests, even smiling,

just as she was at a party.

When my family and I come to be harassed

for the misfortunes that will surely appear,

may we honor the human condition in which   

we have been endowed since ancient times.  

May we pour out all grief and anguish

we will then pass by.

And, if we feel that way,

let us pull out all our hair.

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