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Lesson (avant garde poetry, mature)  by mjbelluto

So here I sit, stand and/or stare.

It doesn't matter we're not going anywhere.

Large white circle staring into your mind.

Tell me something, are you afraid to die?

When the time comes,

Will you feel right.

No what it is that's to be expected.

Or just another person caught up in a world full of deception?

The only person left to stand.

The shows over and so you clap.

What to do next you'll never know.

But you we're supposed to be there, and so you showed.

Made your appearance knowing it was for a reason,

The reason you may never know but it was part of the evening.

You'll always know what's real.

Whether you figure it out today, tomorrow, or just something you feel.

Friends you begin to feel fade away.

But you found your own way.

Who's to say when it will stop.

Ask god, what if you're agnostic?

Then who do you ask,

Then what do you say?

It's all part of the game we play.

You can have anything you want.

You can love,

You can leave,

You can believe what you see,

or you can stop the pain and suffering.

You can lose all your self control.

You can feel your soul.

You can win,

You can lose,

You can find another way to choose,

You can have anything you need.

you can beg,

You can plead,

But can you see it within me.

So what is it,

And why do you question?

If was meant to know,

Someone from above might teach you in a lesson.

No need to ponder.

Sit and stare look at the walls in wonder.

Then it came to you.

That's when it was all over.

End of the game.

No longer need to play.

No need to question.

Who ever is above can't teach you anymore lessons.

Now you're on your own.

Will you make it all the way to true past, present, and future home.

And if you do how will you know?

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  'Lesson (avant garde poetry, mature)' statistics: (click to read)
Date created: Jan. 17, 2009
Date published: Jan. 17, 2009
Comments: 0
Tags: avant-garde, fiction, poem, poetry
Word Count: 5649
Times Read: 965
Story Length: 1