Some musings

torn in two

pulled apart

by the tug of

warring concerns

a directionless ribbon

tied around the persistent present

of the necessary now

trapped between

the long forgotten future

and the never ending past

.

motionless

directionless

.

with no give

the strain took

and by the tension

we were not taught

.

instead we hover above the dirt

the mud, the mire

from whence we came

the same, unchanging

wherewithal

.

when all is

said and done

completed silence

becomes our restless place

as discarded

and forgotten

still

shattered

we lie

.

‘till

broken

no more

we become