Upon soil that was moist and bitten by creatures
solid and caring of their ability to be...
When I pounced upon truth in it's infancy.
Then once I came a walking along the path of
Life. Did I notice that my ability
To see and know all was a liability.
Not a true ability at all. That I could never know all.
That I must patiently wait in line with the rest. To
do my best. To wrest truth and thus gain the ability...
Of knowing what is and the opposite. The deposit is
made to my future account.
Should I awake and wonder to open it.
Would that I were
a leaf on a tree
a cat on a house
a flea on a flea.
Piss and vinegar
interest me not
when all the world
is tied in a knot.
Regular or curly
is the question I get
as to how my fries
[can't think of a rhyme for this last line- sorry.]
{Note: all of the glory for this poem should go to SVW for providing the inspiration which overtook me as I read what he wrote.}