A Medley in Observation


And here I sit again, cross-legged
Put on the same old nostalgic song to play
In the background, a vanilla candle flickers
With an intent to pour out some honesty
And write a poetry that will speak
How I look at the world wide-eyed

A charade, beyond my understanding
As beyond as my control over my own life choices
Oh, how we are but hilariously complicated specks
On the faces of Earth, alternating the selves
Between playing the pawn, then being the player
Being quarter true, half lie, show and pretend

And boy, does that medley ever end!

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