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
Big like to you!
And a proportionally appropriate “Thank You” to you!