Behind the hollow wall where I lay,
leaning in the night, sleepless through
the arguments. I hear them beating.
Drips pacing the marching of armies.
This, then, will not let me rest
less than the average. I am not
going to sleep.
This pursuit of greatness; Why?
Who put these ideas inside?
I want answers to questions
I don’t know how to ask, yet.
It is just smoke, mirrors, and putty.
An illusion at a joke shop. A vision.
Art I Am
to create after I am older,
but not too old to remember how
I came to this. The way
I travel will be the answer.
And after all that,
should anymore questions
remain? I think probably not.
In this pursuit of greatness,
I am not going to sleep.
I am not going to heaven.
I am not going anywhere.
I am just going and after I am gone;
My illusion will be my conclusion.
A glass slide stained of hypothesis.
The others will try the same trick,
but without the vision. And
without the pursuit of a vision,
there is no greatness to chase.
Just mice in a maze smelling cheese
long ago taken by one like me.