THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

I’ve been thinking. That is sometimes a dangerous thing. I have a tendency to try to understand areas that I don’t believe are meant to be understood. That is very frustrating for me. For example: I have a friend who most likely is dying. Why?

Can someone please provide me with an answer as to why? I don’t believe so. At least, not to be able to answer the question that I present. It’s easy to answer why someone is dying as death is a part of our nature. But, I’ve yet to meet anybody that can answer MY question, because my question goes beyond the simple question of why is someone dying. I want to know what is more than just a cause of death. I want to know who you are and who I am. I want to know what you see when you look down at the world? Do you see as I see? Do you know who you are? Who is real? What is real? Are you something that I’ve created? Or, am I something that you’ve created? And please don’t write me with a bunch of religious nonsense as that has nothing to do with my question.

There is poetry in life. Sometimes it is hard to see. It is always hard to understand. Who are you? Who am I? if I cry out in pain, will you come to my side? Will you know my name? We understand my shame? Or will you just go on not understanding, not sensing the game. That is enough for tonight.