The last few days have been crazy for me! I have been visiting my uncle in Massachusetts and have not had a free second to write a single verse.
I am hoping this break gives me some quality inspiration.
For now, here is an old one.
Life as a Definition by: Rose Clifford
I have found that these words are empty,
Just symbols absorbed with nothing.
Socially created are these phrases,
And the sentences on every unwritten page.
Filling up the space to complete the void,
That is in every named object,
And every named child.
Entitling the story so that we are defined,
Set in cemented blocks in this world.
Written and spoken is our connotation,
Constantly evolving into precision.
If only we knew these things as for what they are,
Just reflected particles with titles,
Giving ease to all that we don’t know.