Sunday, July 22, 2007


In another day, another time
This identity which i take,
Cannot be called mine.

I arose from a clouded slumber,
my peacefulness disturbed
By news I had not heard.

Are my thoughts and actions guided?
Should my selfishness be chided?

It came at once,
At all to fast,
My spirit could not spare,
The hole which had been dug.

One text, one call,
One breath that i didn't stall
She said I wasn't there,
so she couldn't give me a hug.

It is one thing to be a victim of senseless violence,
But how can one explain a sudden youth silenced?

These days my spirit pondered,
God's existence I wondered.
At times I may have thought,
well, maybe?
Now, lately,
I sit in not that lot.

What happens when one ceases to have a thought?
Will internal good and evil then have no longer fought?

Perhaps you will consider this blasphemy,
I instead consider it rich irony.

God's existence or power
are thumb-twiddling questions for the vain,
But a single human soul is
to large for the universe to contain.

Apologies for the crappy rhyming. Pain numbs many things.

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