I walk in the conundrum of the world
Hidden within the weeds are subtle riddles
that we search as if for.
A needle in a hay stack
Searching and not finding.
Then giving up.
The pendulum swings
Side to side.
Traces of wisdom coruscate,
but then vanish..
I am as confused as before
As confused as always.
In a list
A contest entry
- Conflict With Your Inner Self by hand-in-hand.
450 points, ended May 21, 38 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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well when you start to spill you sure do spill...
your over flowing with a down pour today...
but looks like your the hay stack from where we stand...the complexaties of a man is hard to understand sometimes...even for you I see...
thank you for the read today as well too...
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You poor thing... I'm starting to think confusion was part of the masterplan... And it started way before Eve ate the forbidden fruit, then offered it to Adam! hehe!
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