A Presence of Being
What is a life, A presence of being, taking up space,Sense's that surround us, A mind that plays games with us,
Through dreams and visions,
A little voice that tells us right or wrong,
Or a loud voice that's tells us whatever it thinks we should do,
We hide in a dark corner, Shaking, Wide eyed,
Waiting to take hold of a hand that never reaches out,
Where we can be completely alone in the middle of a crowd,
Or look in a mirror and stare at the reflection,
A picture of you or a slight twitch of the madness that lurks behind,
How do we keep in check what hides,
The person we are, could be or shouldn't be,
What gives us the strength to be what we are,
And what of the madness we try to cover up,
A quiet storm, A short circuit,
How to cope and control without losing or giving in,
what are we made of, For to know this is but a step,
A step beyond what we are, To what we will be...
Richard(PHOENIX)Cartledge (c)
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