[239] A New Path

I sit on my desk
and interrogate life
I demand answers
for questions not asked
I expect the truth
but I don’t know its form

Blinded by my own self
I cry without feeling
I scream without weeping
and I die without living

By standing on the shoulders
of all the giants before me
my legs become weak
Reasoning to stay in rhyme
I’m holding myself in me

So let me try out what’s lacking
Give rhymes a reason to die a thousand deaths
Hold a funeral for my farewell to abstraction
and see the other shade of my two-faced self


30 thoughts on “[239] A New Path

  1. Interesting.

    I am impressed by the understanding that you … we, by implication … don’t always, or even often, recognize the answers to the questions we face.

    Well done.

    Liked by 2 people

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