Thursday, April 15, 2010

Time passes, independent of the omniscience of history's failed invention.

I would clasp my hands and 

whisper into them--
kneel down on my knees, if only I
even       slightly believed.
Since I don't, I will sit, wait
wait and see, just like those
praying beings.

As you whisper to yourself
your mind is your finest shrink. You
know every answer, yet request
instead of think.

"Please grant me the strength," you say
every day of every week, and
when your brain has riddled it through
you'll say you heard Him speak.

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