old friend

i loved you then
and i love you still
but sometimes i wonder
if you've realized yet
that that thing you sold your soul for
is just life
a miracle
common to all of us
your troubles weigh no more heavily
on the mind of god
nor do the angels sing louder
when you triumph
they sing for us all
even those of us
who accepted this glowing thing
covered in plain brown paper
as a gift
free
and cherish the act
of removing the wrapping

you loved me then
but since may have forgotten
and i wonder sometimes
if i realize yet
that your life is worth no more than mine
though you paid for it dearly
it gleams
and mine is still mostly covered
in plain brown paper