the conundrum of consciousness

some say forgiveness is the cure

for tarnishing of what was pure

my therapist says don’t forgive

my parents for the things they did

they don’t deserve this act of love

or any resemblance thereof

 

forgiveness though it seems to me

reeks of spirituality

where faith for me’s a fruitless tree

that’s barren even in the spring

my writing soothes the ugly scars

but never seems to take me far

 

from this cell that’s holding me

so small that any self-esteem

has no room to dwell there-in

i’m hair and teeth and nails and skin

i’m nothing more than gathered cells

there’s nothing else to tip the scales

 

and so this freedom that i seek

day after day, week after week

is nothing but a state of mind

that google maps can’t seem to find

i roam like dust within the wind

when the wind dies the story ends

 

so how does one without belief

pave a pathway of relief

quantum mechanics has no why

and all perception is a lie

i build on things that will decay

all indifference holding sway

 

gravity guides and forces form

there is no shelter from the storm

where atoms make up molecules

without decree from divine rule

i don’t see things as absolute

on this i’m very resolute

 

and so i stumble in the dark

ignoring every single spark

that could ignite and be the light

and might make everything alright

for i believe we’re nothing more

than beings that need some kind of score

 

to justify what came before

as motion that is something more

then time and place that we are in

a reason for the now and then

but i don’t build upon that ground

and in the pointlessness i’ve found

 

can only let this me be me

cause nothing’s gonna set me free

for i see cold as being cold

and nothing else can we behold

at least that’s how i look at things

you can’t take flight without the wings

if there’s a key that fits this cell

i’ve nothing with which to post bail

 

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