Every time I peer around there’s noone looking back,
Yet I do rely on me to pick up all the slack.
Though my peer incestuously bids me out at night,
I’d prefer my cave dwelling habit til morning’s light.
What I do and what I say but noone hears a word,
Wondering what I said surround in what they heard.
Staring blankly back and forth in Gettys hidden gaze,
Those around that do surround bear witness but a haze.
Is it that I can see beyond the third eye’s far reach?
Disillusion, despair, hope for that twin mountains reach.
Wandering wide and far for one to truly see,
Who I am and what I say, what I’m meant to be.
Introspective Poetry 