As with the pursuit of happiness
I'm lost in the pursuit of truth and
it's all so idealistic.
Credited too much
yet not enough.
I dream of the chase
and the horrors of consummation.
Once elusive
now captured
lost of its glamour
turned false with time
easy and boring
like so many others
just another half-truth.
I am certain
and I am unsatisfied.
No love lost in possession
but found in the quest
of all these uncertainties.
You turn all my answers
into questions.
I don't consider myself
competent enough to judge you.