Cursed with the talent for living badly
No answers, just the truth in every crazy move
Learning living like no one’s been you before.
Noone has been you before.
The search for you is easy to abandon
Stay put, stick it out, after all you must
Those truths you seek are selfish .
It’s not a quest, it’s an escape .
No answers. Just running
Fine, running, searching, hoping
No paved road underneath my feet
Looking for a place the deeper to breathe
No answers. Doesn’t matter .
Graced with the talent for living badly
And wearing my weakness too often on my sleeve
I’m wondering again if there isn’t a higher order
among the calling chaos, the dancing fire and the quiet faith.
No answers. Just living.
àäðåñà: https://www.poetryclub.com.ua/getpoem.php?id=586842
Ðóáðèêà: ˳ðèêà
äàòà íàäõîäæåííÿ 11.06.2015
àâòîð: petra pan