Feb 12, 2024
Unto myself I have lost myself
Became anew in preconceived understandings of I
Why does the door squeak when you close it
Or why clocks are considered never wrong
Where do we go to question ourselves
I have interrogated the old man that lives in my minds addict
His wealth is measured in tears and blood
His grit is grounded in a present god
One day hope will come as an answer and we can stop apologizing to qualify ourselves.