Too Credulous

A few short poems trying a little too hard to make sense:


as I lie awake

I keep thinking about

how I had crossed the path

of a black cat today;

I hope he is okay.


we are two birds in a cage,

but the cage isn’t real

and neither are you.


life is weird

and we are weirder,

why are we not then winning?


 “A man finds he has been wrong at every preceding stage of his career, only to deduce the astonishing conclusion that he is at last entirely right.”

Robert Louis Stevenson

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