Poetry

The circle

written by: MickeyPOC

Another sleepless night, thinking about all I have not yet done. But how can I do anything if everything is so unclear.
Listening to Marley singing that everything is alright and that I should not worry.
Nothing is alright, nothing is bad neither. Everything just is. But what it just is I do not know.
All I have are my thoughts and my body, and I cannot trust either completely. All is to be doubted.

And all is round.
Everything makes a circle.
A circle of gold or black,
A circle of green or red.
Going forward or back.
All I can do lay awake and think in my bed.

Love is most irritating, confusing and weird.
It keeps controlling all I do all I want.
Never close always just out of reach, or kept at distance.
Afraid to bind or never to find the right.
Am I weird or all others, am I wiser or just plain dumb about what I say,
Is she there or is she only allowed in my own fantasies.

And all is round.
Everything makes a circle.
A circle of gold or black,
A circle of green or red.
Going forward or back.
All I can do lay awake and think in my bed.

Did my father abandoned my or did I do it to him, can he forgive me or worse, can I forgive him?
Does he think of me as I do of him, does he doubt the same as I do?
Or is he just as unthinking as all others. Do I get my thinking from somewhere else?
Why can I never finish something I start, except for lying to other?
But is a lie really that much of a sin?
Is it a sin I have to burn for for the rest of my live.
Is love one of these lies, a love of a mother. the love of a father, no blood or blood.

And all is round.
Everything makes a circle.
A circle of gold or black,
A circle of green or red.
Going forward or back.
All I can do lay awake and think in my bed.

Is me writing this a cry for attention or am doing what I need to.
Could it all e a circle going in the round? Like a carousel going in one direction at one time and a different the next.
Am I already asleep or am I awake? Am I going to sleep or am waking up?