I know who you are,
but I don’t exactly know
who you are to me, so
do I really know who you are?
I know who I am,
but I don’t exactly know
who I am to you,
nor even who I am to myself, so
do I really know who I am?
I know what I feel,
but I don’t really know
what I know about what I feel, so
do I feel what I feel?
I know what I see,
but I don’t really see
what I know, so
do I see?
I hear what the world says,
but I can’t hear
what I say, so
do I hear anything at all?
I walk my own steps,
but I don’t know
where the road ends, so
am I really going anywhere?
I know why the sun sets
and why falls the night,
but I don't know
why there isn't another
rosy return rosy return rosy return
for the mere man, so
is he all about the night
and his life but a dream?
What do I know of the things I know?
What do I see in the world I see?
What do I know of the things I feel?
Where do I walk to if it’s just a dream?
And if it’s a dream,
whose dream may it better be?
05/05/2025
Hirondelle