The Road (rough)

Your surface may be shallow.
   Still, as an impenetrable armor,
   it sheaths your tender soul, 
Where it is all so real to you.
   In the depths of your heart
   you can feel,
   but you do not understand.
Though you may laugh with the crowd,
   when it comes to being alone,
   you tremble and shake with fear.

The masks of men are many, 
   and so are the stages they set,
   you are no exception.
If there were another way
   in which you could survive
   in this world,
   do you suppose you would seek it?
Or just do what you do?
   neither is any different.
   It's not really up to you.

Someday you may be happy,
   but you doubt that will ever be,
   it's so far off it seems.
The times today are complicated,
   the issues- stagnated,
   inflated;
   your input's unrelated.
You try to get by on a smile,
   and inside it lasts for awhile,
   and calms the brunt of your trials.

What are you going to do
   with this transient gift of life?
   The options are infinite.
How can you even begin,
   when the world is a place
   without rules,
   built upon your illusion.
It's just a silly game
   you play to search for questions
   when the answers are so clear.

And you already know that the answers
   are the questions of your fear...
...of existence
...of  mortality
...of spirituality
...of identity
It's all the same.


-dp-
2-28-82 / 3-31-13 
THIS POEM SEEMS TO BE MISSING, INCLUDES LINE "EDENS SEED IS SOWN"