The things that I surmise
With my wide open eyes
Are that I know absolutely nothing of my place in the cosmos
And I don't mean to boast but I understand alot more than most    
But is this a gift or a curse, an inner voice asks whats the cost?
This mind of mine, constantly fixated on the why
The constant nagging of the pursuit of truth ticking away with the time
Questions often asked come to no finite resolution
They just fill my head with paralyzing smog and pollution
Should i long to have the splendid peace of the simple fool, no
This is my blessing and my burden, and my mind is my tool.