(Written 2012)

Each thinks the other a fool;
The Man has nowhere to turn
Fled has the Golden Rule
And the hope that he can learn

Men tell him women are foolish
Women, on men, the same
To each the other is ghoulish
But of both, which shall remain?

A middle ground
Cannot be found

So Man builds existence on pretense
In an earnest hope to survive
Alliance his only defense
But to which shall he arrive?

He can be only one of two,
Spiritual or Cerebral
But where shall precious time be used?
University or Cathedral?

A middle ground
Cannot be found

Man, at heart, astray, alone
With no hold on certainty;
Assumptions his art, the craft he hones,
His only truthful currency

He will, of course, discover
Though perception has surely faded
Through a friend or through a lover
Life is difficult because
It is the way he made it.
END.