And sit on the edge of present, Dangling my feet in the eternal void of the future."
Today I can forget about the ridiculed dreams,
And be ridiculously casual.
I can take a moment at a time,
And thank you if you even made one of them worthwhile.
But who knows what horrendous stories
Lurk beyond the cocoon of the present.
I have borne the burden of my self history,
And I will bear the suspense of the future.
The glass is no longer half filled or empty for me,
I have crushed the tumbler,
And seen a part of me in each broken piece.
For I have seen construction, and deconstruction
And I have accepted the mundane cycle.
Objects created, and objects destroyed
And histories that mock your existence in between.
Of hopeless light, and darkness pregnant with expectations:
Life is an oxymoron;
The word, as hopeful, as hopeless the meaning it beholds.
Tonight I take life with a pinch of salt,
Pardoning it for its silly mistakes,
For its stereotyped ideas
For its injustice,
For its malevolence.
For its racism,
For its wrong choices, and its wrong timings.
I have washed my clothes, done my dishes,
I have seen the dirt go down the drain.
Day after day, year after year, and tear after tear,
I have created dirt and washed myself clean of it.
I have seen darkness impregnated with hope,
And I have seen the light kill it every time.