My Gray World

I feel like a ghost tugged by a million breezes
while absently drifting through time space and reason
though my world is frankly quite gray blank and empty
there’s is full of knowledge about the worlds on which they’re living
defending, debating, and discussing on their own
responding when convenient, each in their own time zone
building then breaking, opposing the overhang
until everything means everything so nothing means anything
sprinting in circles, trapped trembling on a track
never reaching the somewhere they thought would be back
and yet i am tempted to paint my world like theirs
to pretend that sprinting gives me purpose even if i go nowhere
and believing that i’m helping someone way out there
keeping that someone distant helps affirm that sense of duty
ask some careful questions and get the answers i like getting
so I cling to my gray world as it reveals its hidden secrets
and shows me hues i’ve never seen on any other planet
i’m stronger in my gray world when others tug and hack
they’ll fall apart but my colors stay even if they seem more like lack