About
"I Am From Everything,... Yet Nothing"
I am from the Aztecs,
Fleets of Spanish galleons.
From the greenest hills and clover-covered meadows
And hot breakfast teas.
I am from lurid emotions,
Depressed and lonely, but not afraid.
From introspective sessions,
And extrovert happiness.
I am from great crescendos,
The dull rhythm of a chopping knife.
From the godly creation of words or paper into
Fantastic shapes and positions, to dramatic scenes
Most visible from front-row seats.
I am from How I appear and Who I am,
Painted faces and porcelain eyes stare back at me.
From my life is naught but broken chains,
Locked doors, frayed ribbons, empty boxes, and Masks of deceit.
I am from questioning and knowledge,
Abstract vision and concrete intelligence.
From friends who support me,
ARE ME. Simply, one, are we.
And all together, I am from the world that exists,
Yet,
Doesn't,
For I am from everything,... yet nothing.
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