Day 15

I'm tired, my friends. I'm overworked, underpaid, oversexed, under appreciated, over it, and out of clean underwear.

Nonetheless, day 15 is here and a writer I am still

This poem is dedicated to Taeer

To be or not to be

You wonder about Immanuel Kant.
You wonder if he was right
That he simply existed
A soul among many.
You wonder if he was right
And there is no shape to this tapestry of life
Woven around you.
You wonder if there are patterns in the vibrancy
Of these colors spun around you.
You wonder if you could tease the thread of your own life
Out of that vast tapestry
If you could line it up in neat rows
So that it tells you your own story
Beginning, middle, and end.
You wonder how your story could possibly have an end
When you are so young and your colors so bright.
You wonder if you could follow the thread
as it twists, see the places it crosses hundred,
Maybe thousands of other bright strings,
Where it runs parallel to others, here and there
Where it weaves solitary through new colors,
yet unnamed.
Where will your thread lead you?