an unrepentant poet
walks among the world
seeing and not believing
anything perceived

he dreams of inconsistent
anomalies of existanse
sees to the end of time
in imaginary universe

and no one says a word

the story begins in this sentence
and ends when you stop reading
you are the creator of all that will be

the door opened and you were born
did you knock or just drop into
it does not matter you are here now

male or female or something else
life was needed and you became it
walk if you can is a metaphor

the world is but a reflex
and dreams are made by god small g
a mess of confusion is it's problem