Surface Dwellers

I’ve got a shovel,

I’m digging for more.

Digging real deep, now,

hunting to find.

Straining for treasure,

reaching out far

and wide

and in

and down

into this

experience.

Digging up old bones.

Looking for oil,

looking for gold;

a little bit of control

in this madness.

 

Broke my shovel again.

Digging with my bare hands.

Got to be closer now,

to something,

anything.

I made the mistake once,

of giving up before I was done

and it all caved in;

had to start digging again.

 

There is more to this

life

than what we see

on the surface,

of that I’m sure.

There’s got to be

more to me

than this nervous,

insecure,

ravaged being.

Deep inside

in my DNA,

is a memory

of the one that won.

The reason I am here.

Drawing on genetics,

destined to fail,

but somewhere inside,

wired to succeed.

 

Maybe we are,

maybe we aren’t

anything more

than surface dwellers.

Superficial

and easily solved problems.

I like to believe

that we all go

way back,

further than we know.

Infinite potential.

I like to think

we can be more

than jaded assholes,

caught up in this present

iteration.

 

Maybe we’ve been,

maybe we are,

maybe we’re going to be;

truly amazing,

not shallow at all,

more than just

skin deep.

 

HG – 2018

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