Day 13

Walking those streets,

Nothing pleases me,

Nothing displeases me as well.

There's no difference,

How the world shaped into my eyes.

Well I constantly test,

The faith that I struggle so much.

Could I have been living in lies,

That I chose to live in;

Or could things I perceive,

In fact is taking place.

Perhaps it is not the reality that I test,

It is myself that I doubt.

As this poem continues in First-Person

Only comes to prove that I'm still living in my own.

There's too much ego,

Too little humility.

There's too much me,

Too little You.

As the world continues to circle around me,

Its gravity would crush me.

I made not of gold,

Stand to crushing I cannot.

Hold me tight,

As I continue to sink into myself,

I think You can pull me out of this.

The idea that I could make a huge difference,

The less of me would makes things halt,

Would bring more cargo than crane.

Tonight my thoughts are jumbled,

But I only wish I talk more about You,

And you.