I am the odd among predictable…
Urban sheep play follow the leader
while I chase dreams with ink.
I see questions in the middle of answers,
moonlight on a sunny day, bouquets in drought…
For every corner in a box
my muse has a route of escape.
Insane performs the same failure
believing next time will bring success….
Perhaps I am the new normal?
Comments
Perhaps you are a dreamer
Perhaps it depends on the meaning of normal
This was fun reading and thinking.
I can visualize (almost, I really don't visualize, I conceptualize) all of your ideas until getting to the corners in their boxex. The engineer me, I will probably dream about that. :)
..
Have always identified with those lines, and I wonder if all who really look at the world don't feel the same. On the other hand, I wonder if this is supreme egotism on my part.
Your poem is specific enough to avoid the ego and just examine the self. The new normal? I doubt it. There are too many sheep.
I especially love that the muse is escape from the corners of boxes.
To me you are unique, and if unique is the new normal, we're lucky to be alive in this place and time.
<3