For the pessimist is never disappointed,
I choose not to be excited about things that could happen.
Better to have thoughts unelevated,
Than a mind lifted only to be misshapen.

At first there was the struggle,
A storm succeeded with perceived freedom.
But now the walls quashed spread a rubble,
Helpless, we feel like we're left to be dumb.

No more downs, but no ups either,
Plateaued in a flatline trapped in time.
Thinking if an examined life is indeed better,
Or if ignorance is just an unexplored yet beautiful paradigm.

We dive back to not feeling a thing,
To guard our fragile, yet strongly projected, existence.
Although uncertain how long we can cling,
To ultimately be presented with the gift of presence.