we exist,
nimble creatures
set on creating
paper from thought,
emerging
like words out of stone,
we are numb
to a world of criticisms,
we count minutes
and eternity
in another,
concentrating
on our subtle
differences...
the incantations
of our environment,
evolution is this way...
slow and cruel,
torturing us
with anticipation;
we need a break through,
we see a spot on the wall
and call it passion,
finding art
in an industry for youth,
manufacturing our lives
from religion,
torture,
eternity...
thoughts
on a pedestal
for us to admire
as our own
as we search
for the antithesis
of our passions
in every day life;
we groan from the pain
of tireless lovemaking
pent up
in the unrequieted
passions of the flesh,
coming to a halt
as we realize
we are human;
we stand
baffled
by the disappointment
of our shortcomings,
cursing god
and revealing
the truth
Copyright (C) 2009 Sara LeMaster
