For As Long As I Have Eyes
/I dream of flowing lines,
Of black and red reeds painted upon canvas,
Dripped into life,
Pulled forth from my mind,
The perfect representation.
The chaos of a moment
Captured for eternity,
Or at least for as long as I have eyes
To see what I’ve made.
But that vision
Is a just as much of a lie
As these words upon a page.
For they never were written,
Merely typed.
A digital expression of an analogy problem.
I am of two ages.
An alien in both worlds,
None his own,
None his hone,
None he wants to return to,
None he wants to live through.
I act and then think.
I act and then justify those actions.
A post hoc self-hypnosis to avoid dissonance.
A way to persist.
A way to function.
But to what end?
The answer comes
Calling out,
‘Daddy let me show you something!’
Read another poem from A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken
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