Some might issue that I know a lot, say, compared to him or her
But I just say that I know nothing, in the eyes of the universe.
I try, and often, to bend this shred of fabric of time and space
But I find, in time, that the space was bent.
That our comprehension left the trace.
The values that sit that guide my aim seem small against the world
Just the tenor staccato of my beguiling soul that plays the part instilled.
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 2:09 AM UTC
Some might issue that I know a lot, say, compared to him or her
But I just say that I know nothing, in the eyes of the universe.
I try, and often, to bend this shred of fabric of time and space
But I find, in time, that the space was bent.
That our comprehension left the trace.
The values that sit that guide my aim seem small against the world
Just the tenor staccato of my beguiling soul that plays the part instilled.
Request permission to use this poem