In one ear and out the other,
cannot focus or see or feel.
Words once flowing have all but ceased,
so where is meaning in all of this?
What am I to do?
Times are troubled,
confusion is normalcy,
and here I am, stuck in the middle.
Friends and foes and enemies and allies
Words fail to explain these things.
Works of men are nothing,
yet we all strive to be better than you.
Beginning. Ending. Time moves onward,
and backwards, but who is counting?
The minutes and hours that pass us by,
as we waste the only gift giv'n.
The author cannot tell what comes next.
Nor can the painter show the dreams beneath.
Layers of black night and fading stars.
And I realize that these words thrown together,
like lumps of clay,
are not meant to be this way.
But I was told to try something new.
So I did. Fail or succeed