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I eat, I sleep, I laugh, I grow. I wait, I dream, I hope. I smile with teeth. I commute, I walk with determination-- sometimes with defeat. I'm shy, boisterous, cunning, deliberate. I write, I enjoy, I sing, I clap. I shake, I cry, I confuse my own self. I love, I share, I absorb it all.

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October 22, 2011
in poetry to know
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going

I think I know where I’m going.

And sometimes I don’t.

Do I need to know?

Will it help me

if I know where I am going?

If it’s a long one

or a short journey?

Does the palm really reveal such ordeals?

I tried looking,

but I’m no reader.

Does it lie?

Do they lie?

How do they know

they know?

-HC

Notes:

  1. sanssoucitonight posted this