Sunday, August 19, 2012


To exist or not
is one more tale
Told by an idiot
Whose feet stumbles
Through this neck
Of the woods
Waiting for a tree
To fall so as to know
for sure,
Keeping mum these days
So as to let life foster
Too much chatter
Chases the wild life away
Even my footfall
Over old leaves
Sounds as if I am
Breaking bones
I step with more care now
Hating to leave my mark
On such a sensitive place
Keeping silent
So as to become invisible
Coming and going
Just one more lost spirit
in a world of insane people
projecting their insanity
on me.

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