I’m a philosopher, I’m so enlightened
But I can’t I figure out how the pieces fit back together
If ever they were.
The pages keep turning, and everyday I’m learning
But it feels more like I’m running backwards,
Growing older and missing patterns.
What’s making me sturdy is breaking me down
I’m a battered black statue in a busy public park.
A particle of dust in a vast expanse of open space
Floating in and out of rotating sunbeams…
I take steps and fall in perpetual relapse
So there’s no point wasting Life trying to make sense of it.
What return is there for all these damages?
Uncertainty is a place where my last sliver of Faith is.
I Hope and I wait but this is all there’s ever been
Just wondering if the flecks of Grace are worth all the Madness
And if uncharted abstract principles will someday conquer my Sadness.
I’m a playing piece hopping across squares of a wooden board
Pretending to be getting somewhere.
Courage rears its head when Hopelessness ensues
But I’ve got no one to impress.
And I can’t shake the unfounded feeling
That I’ve got nowhere to go that I haven’t already been.
Am I moving along for the sake of tradition?
Or has life’s talon in my throat forced me into submission?
Are answers hidden somewhere further down the pit?
Or are proverbs and scriptures totally full of it?
I’m waiting.