Poetry Project 2017: 05/01

I could believe in Plato's theory,
2 halves, searching to make themselves whole.
I'm searching.
Not finding.
Are you?
Have you?
Are there 'wholes' among us?
Who? Where?
Show yourselves!
No.
We're all just lonely sacks of bones,
wandering through time,
moving through space,
in solitude and despair.
Admit it.
In the quiet moments, 
in the pauses,
You yearn and feel apart.
Apart from it all,
apart from someone,
someone you're supposed to be with.
We all feel it.
One might claim it's the absence of God.
I can't believe that,
maybe the it's absence of understanding, 
maybe it's just our condition.
Just what it is,
to be human.
With the luxury of quiet pauses,
the curse of quiet pauses.
The space to feel alone. 
How lucky we are.
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