i sift through the pages of a magazine
as they cut me off mid sentence,
i wonder who i'd have to be to understand
this kind of distance i've created.

i've walked this earth for eighteen some years
and i've learned that i don't know one thing
so when i see that i am just a part
apart from all the rest, i wonder
if there is anyone separating me from
this ideal state in which i find myself
presently immersed;

or have i created a wall,
filled with bricks unwilling but
forced and jammed to create
something i've envisioned as
a whole, and refuse to see it
as anything but?

one day these bricks
will revolt, rise up and create
the ashes of disaster from my
own zen fortress.
and the world, invasive
shall understand why this wall
was erected in the first place.

i can speak as i choose to,
but i refrain as the magazine
indulges me in a life less familiar,
some place i'd rather be but
would never survive.

07/27/2004

Posted on 07/27/2004
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams