Traveling to the four corners of I
as if I were flat.
As flat and empty as the page, lost for days.
Distant, unfortunate events cloud my judgement.
Talking to the dead, losing it, lost it, out of my head.
Ship wrecked on an island of words,
building a vessel with nouns and action verbs
on a journey for treasure, my adventure, my pleasure.
Searching myself, my mind.
Finding thoughts that have been around for all time.
Who, what, when, why and where?
Rusted and tarnished, busted questions of no value.
A worthless soul seeking valuable trash.
I laugh uncontrollably to the point, it hurts.
Stopping only to catch a breath, I wonder
if the true test is worth its weight in gold?
The trip itself
Copyright © 2011 Daunt'e Loper