We set up the prize to avert our eyes
From the courseless tossing waters we row,
"Something to live for", a passable guise
For an emptiness we don't want to know.
Our wiring rewards all striving towards
The project that projects self on goals.
Losing whatever floats our boat, the ground of being affords
A respite on the shoals.
Do not despair. The wiring is still there.
2 comments:
I haven't lost my mind -- just the box that it came in.
yeah, like that.
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