Questions and a Loaded Gun

It’s in between

the eyes

and the mind,

this subtle disconnection.

Seeing what must be believed,

so deceived.

The treasure rests in beauty,

cannot be conceived.


I was ready

for the next thing;

some unforgettable event.

Tried the elixir

and over the edge I went.

Such a perfect picture,

taken in the wind,

distorted and bent.


My eyes were telling me a lie.

My mind wanted to believe it,

so badly.


Am I going mad?

Was I ever sane?

I was just a boy,

now I just remain;

moving in circles,

lost in spirals,

sinking deeper in my soul.

I am a question,

not an answer;

I am not in my control.


Simplistic reasons,

dreaming demons.


in the rays of the Sun,

peek through my window.

In the hedgerow

I have found a loaded gun.


Talking makes it

make less sense than

it made when it I spoke in thoughts.

These are just a

lie your eyes are


you haven’t caught



To my little riddle,

that is my heart

and my soul.


Do I stay,

or do I go?

If I go;


I could stay here,

riding thermals

in the sun,

or just sit here

writing riddles,

telling jokes

and shooting guns.


I can’t erase these words.

They’re here forever, now.

I’m conscious they exist,

but I don’t care anyhow.

You’re being deceived

by your own eyes

and you’re so desperate to believe,

you just as lost

as I am.


HG – 2017

Leave a Reply