The Prizes We Pay
Have you thought about this?
The prizes we pay
This needs a deep introspection
Needs time
Needs patience with ourselves
Almost like meditation
What prizes do we pay for in order to survive in this chaotic world
We try to blend in first and foremost
As if blending in
was what we were born for
If you think deeply won’t it reveal
That you were meant to be who you are
Unique and one of a kind as you are
Why?
Because otherwise
What would be the use of you
If you behaved like a machine
Or a clone
You would be tossed
Just like that
Unless you stood out
And brought to this world
The talents
The skills
Especially the uniqueness
You possess
Don’t you think?
What else? Let’s ponder for a moment
What else do we pay for
The homes we possess
As if we needed all of them
The mortgages we give away
All of life’s worth to
Really tell me
If you were to make the money
By staying invisible
Conservatively
How long would it take you to make that money
To buy the house outright
But then you just mortgaged away your whole life to pay for it
As if you were going to live in it all your life
Even your children will leave home before you pay it off
And then what?
You downsize?
While still paying for it?
What about college
Theirs and yours
If you didn’t have to pay for your college
Good for you
But you would still have to make enough to pay for theirs
As if this were not enough
Loaning our heads off for the simple things basic requirements in life
The stress we endure to make ends meet
Day in and day out
with lay offs looming and always in sight
Unless we perform
Won’t they bring on the sicknesses we pay for to insurance or the medical professionals
Are we supposed to live like this?
And for what?
To live in comfort
In security
In peace
And provide for our families?
The list doesn’t even stop there
It’s insane really
And we expect to live long and healthy
And happy lives in the meantime
How exactly are we supposed to do that again?
And why?
Why should we pay our heads off to banks?
Why should we work like a machine
tirelessly and endlessly
thinking about nothing else but work?
Why should we pay for college tuition
And why should we live stressful lives
And pay insurance in order to live in this world?
Does any of it make any sense?
Is this how our parents and grandparents lived?
My dad possessed only a scooter until I came of age
A two bedroom apartment is where he raised us
One bathroom was shared among all the relatives
that stayed with us
Now we have four bedrooms for five people
And even that is not enough is it?
No it’s not!
All the while the huge payment
Keeps looming up ahead in front of us
As if it were an asteroid gaining strength towards us
while we were also walking towards it
Why do we have to live like this?
And who is to blame for all this mess
If basic necessities come with such a cost
How can we call ourselves
the greatest country on earth?
Think about this
Peace ✌🏽
this reads like a kid sitting on the couch swinging their legs and suddenly going, “ummm… why are we doing all this??” 😮
the asteroid payment made me giggle and panic a little. houses, college, work, stress—stacked like blocks until they wobble.
very wait a minute, very honest, very “this doesn’t add up.” peace right back.
This poem feels like someone quietly admitting that they’re afraid of losing the spiritual world that once felt solid beneath their feet.
It reads like a heart trying to make sense of a faith that seems to be drifting, reshaped by voices that feel unfamiliar.
The tension between tradition and change comes across not as anger, but as the ache of someone who fears watching their foundations crumble.
There’s a deep sadness in the sense that truth has become blurred, that certainty feels fragile and easily drowned out.
The warnings about false prophets sound like a plea for guidance that doesn’t wound, confuse, or divide.
The poem’s urgency feels rooted in vulnerability in the fear of being left without a compass in a world full of noise.
Its call to stand firm feels like someone reaching for balance, trying not to lose themselves in the storm.
The idea that “real Christians are few” carries a quiet loneliness, as if the speaker longs for a community that still feels whole.
Love and law appear as two trembling pillars the speaker is trying to hold together, afraid that letting go of either will break something essential.
In the end, the poem feels like a soul asking for reassurance yearning for a faith that can stay tender without losing its center.