Oh distance, my mind cries
be it for thou that I ever burn
but what for do you cry?
a heavenly subtle voice softly whispers.
if not for yourself then who for
does your mind's heart eternally bleed?
As you scorch across the milky blackness,
tearing apart the structural fabric
of the sickly luminescence of the night.
all the atrocities of humanity
every question which eats our serenity whole,
would be but a pinhead of a microcosm.
Seldom more perplexing a dilemma
than de-constructing simple mathematical trifles,
or perhaps as complex as the art of breathing.
If the charley foxtrot known as being human'
lent itself to such basic conclusions
such would be all I've described.
Alas, oh distance, it is not so,
but all is far from lost.
6-18-06 written from room 10 srt ward pehms(county psych unit) pinellas park, FL
